A Snatch of Tiger Lilies
by Faelai
Summary: It is the ultimate choice, and what seems to be the last battle with an unseen enemy Mulder and Scully had long thought destroyed. . . .
1. Circles

Title: A Snatch Of Tiger Lilies

Author: Emily O'Donnell

Category: S, UST, MSR, DAL, 

Rating: PG-13

Summary: It is the ultimate choice, and what seems to be the last battle with an unseen enemy Mulder and Scully had long thought destroyed. . . . 

Spoilers: The whole myth arc and cancer arc. Obvious spoilers for Fight The Future. 

Timeline: Post Fight The Future

Archive: YES! To Legacy ( since it's already there under works in progress and all ;) Yes to Gossamer, I'll be sending it there myself. Anyone else want to archive it? Go right ahead, just tell me first please? 

A Snatch Of Tiger Lilies

Started: August 5, 2000

Ended: December 31, 2000

*******

A Snatch Of Tiger Lilies

*******

chapter one

*******

"There are two of us talking in circles, 

and one of us who wants to leave. 

In a world created for only us. 

An empty cage that has no key. . ."

~Sarah McLachlan, Circle

*******

Wednesday 

September 8, 1998

Federal Bureau Of Investigation

10:13 a.m.

*******

Fox Mulder leaned back in his chair and blew out a low sigh. His crisp gray suit had been 

permanently rumpled it seemed, from days like this one, sitting outside his boss's office, awaiting certain doom. At least that's how he had always described it, certain doom! His partner had always just rolled her eyes at him and told him that he was being melodramatic.

Speaking of his partner. . . he shot a glance over at her as he slouched against the fabric. She sat straight as a pin, her crisp navy suit seemed to remain crisp and wrinkle free. One of these days he swore he would figure out her secret. 

Dana Scully sat seated on his left, back straight, her poise seemed the cool and confident 

professional. But Mulder knew better, after six years he had learned how to read Dana Scully. 

She was tense, her posture had nothing to do with looking confident, her back was stiff in anxiety. And she was nervous, fidgety, he could tell with the way she played with the straps of her briefcase. He smiled slightly at the sight, no one but he would be able to tell this about her with just a glance, for some reason that pleased him and worried him all at once. 

He sat up slightly and stretched one arm out and around her shoulders. His other hand reached out to snatch her fingers that were still toying with the leather strap. He gripped her palm in his and felt her shoulders tense under his arm. She turned slightly to glance at him, meeting his hazel eyes with her own anxious blue ones. He could tell what she was thinking, not here Mulder. Let's not do this here.

"Nervous?" he asked quietly, bowing his head to hers so that she was talking directly to him. She smiled a tiny smile and he could feel her shoulders relax against him. 

"A little," she confessed. "I have every right to be, don't I? I mean if we don't get the X-Files back, Mulder. . .." She trailed off and glanced away as she squeezed his hand in anxiety. She rubbed her forehead as if her head was aching and drew in a tight breath. He shook his head and moved his arm from around her back to grip her other hand, drawing it away from her face. 

"Hey, don't think like that, Scully. They can't split us up, not now, not after all that's happened." She shifted her blue eyed gaze back to his and could see, in his eyes, all that he wasn't saying. They can't take you away from me, not after Antarctica, not after I went so far to get you back. I won't lose you again."But if they did reassign us to another area? Even if we were together. . .." He allowed himself to trail off as Scully started to protest even before the words were out of his mouth. 

"I told you, Mulder. I am staying here with you, that's final. I'm not going to walk away from you again."

His eyes darkened from hazel to a verdant green and he smiled. "Well if you've made up your mind. . ."

"I have," her eyes battled with his silently for a moment. "I'm here to stay, no matter how much you want to be rid of me, Fox Mulder."

Mulder chuckled softly and slid back into his seat, his fingers still clasping her slender ones. "I don't think I'll ever be rid of you, Scully, you just keep on coming back." 

Scully watched as he leaned back against his seat once more, and closed his eyes in thought. She watched him silently for a moment as she silently willed her headache away, wondering how only a few short weeks ago she had been prepared to walk out of his life forever. What had changed to make her stay? The echo of his words confirmed what she already knew in her heart. 

'You kept me honest, made me a whole person. . ."

She didn't know if he loved her, but his words had reminded her of how much she loved him. She had discovered in that hallway that there was a chance he felt the same way. There had been other indications of course, over the years. In that hallway after Penny Northern died, in her own hospital room when he had come out of hiding to see if she was okay. There had been plenty of indications, but she could never be sure. 

She had realized in that hallway, when he had said those things to her, that if she left, she would never know for sure. 

She gazed at his classic profile and allowed herself to really look at her partner for the first time. His defined cheekbones and rather 'prominent,' shall we say, nose drew first glance. Then those dark lashes that hooded those constantly changing orbs. She knew that if he opened his eyes right now, the color would be different from the lush green of a moment ago. They would be hazel, or brown, sometimes even blue. Then there was the stray lock of hair that always seemed to fall across his forehead, no matter what he did, it was always there, just urging Scully to push it back into place. Oh and lets not get started on those lips. . . his perfect lips with that perfect pouty lower lip that was made for kissing. 

Scully smiled as she recalled that day in the hall outside of Mulder's apartment once more, the entire experience had been worth the memory of that perfect mouth brushing hers. . . 

She gripped Mulder's hand gently and traced lazy circles around his thumb. He opened one eye to glance at her and grin.

"Something I can do for you, partner?" 

She smiled back and cocked her head to the door Skinner had just opened behind her without turning to see whether or not it was their turn to go in. "I think it's our turn, Agent Mulder." 

He opened the other eye and glanced at Skinner questioningly. The older man nodded and Mulder returned his gaze to Scully with a mischievous grin. 

"Sometimes, Agent Scully, you are just plain 'Spooky. . .'"

She grinned back at him as they stood, squeezing his hand once more before reluctantly parting and heading into Skinner's office and retorting with, "I learned from the best." 

He shook his head and chuckled, throwing a glance at Skinner who seemed to be watching their banter with a sort of amusement. Skinner shook his head back at the younger agent and Mulder let his hand come to rest on the familiar small of his partner's back. The two faced Skinner grimly, knowing that together, they could stand anything he threw their way. 

*******

"Agents," Skinner began in a gruff tone once Mulder and Scully were both inside and seated. He glanced at their resolute faces and cleared his throat. 

"This morning I received word that the X-Files were being reopened," he stated bluntly. The expressions of the two agents in front of him were visibly shocked, but their tense stature relaxed slightly and Skinner smiled. 

"At first, the director wanted to assign another pair of agents to the division. . ."

"What?" Mulder leapt to his feet at the outrage. "They can't do that, Sir, the X-Files is our work!"Scullly rose to his side with a slight smile at his words. The X-Files were their work, not just Mulder's quest any longer, she was relieved to see that he finally understood that. 

"Sir, Agent Mulder is right, no other pair of Agents would be qualified to do what we do. . ." She trailed off at Skinner's upraised hand halting her words. 

"That's what I told him, fortunately I was able to persuade him that the two of you were the only ones who could work in the X-Files. After much debate, he gave in."

Mulder turned to Scully with a wide grin. "So?" His question was aimed at Skinner though his eyes were still locked with his partner. 

Skinner shook his head at the picture the two of them made and smiled. "So congratulations Agents, you have the X-Files back." Scully broke the gaze her partner had lain on her to meet Skinner's eyes with her own smile. 

"Thank you, Sir, we won't forget this."

Skinner nodded in dismissal, "You report back to the X-Files tomorrow morning."

Halfway to the door Mulder stopped and turned back, his smile was gone and his expression had turned curious. 

"If you don't mind me asking, Sir, but who did the director want to assign to the X-Files?"

Skinner looked up from the stack of paperwork in front of him to meet Mulder's intense gaze. Scully turned as well, glancing up at her partner then towards their boss. 

Skinner cleared his throat again and set his pen down hesitantly in front of him. "The director, wanted to assign Agent Fowley and Agent Spender to the division."

The look of horror on Mulder's face told Scully all that he thought of that decision. Skinner shook his head, "But Agent Fowley slipped into a coma last night, she hemorrhaged and died early this morning. . .."

Mulder swallowed hard and nodded. Scully's expression turned immediately to one of concern and she reached out to lay a soothing hand on her partner's arm. "I'm sorry, Mulder. . ." She began. 

Mulder shook her off slightly, "Don't be, I'm all right," he turned back to Skinner. 

"There's more, isn't there?" 

Skinner nodded slightly, "Agent Spender disappeared around the same time Agent Fowley died. I suppose that someone really wants the two of you back on the X-Files, or they don't want the X-Files open at all, so I'd advise you to watch your back Agent Mulder."

A ghost of a smile flitted across his features and Mulder shook his head about to say something when Scully cut in. 

"That's what he has me for, Sir," she met his eyes with a smile and took his hand. 

"What do you say we go check out our new office, partner?" 

Mulder grinned down at the woman in front of him and nodded. "Sounds like a good idea, partner." The two of them left Skinner watching them in amusement as they made their way down the hall. 

They were unaware of anyone watching them. The man watched as Mulder's hand fell to the familiar spot on the small of her back and he lowered his head to hers as if to share some vitally important information.

He ran his hands through his ebony hair and smiled at the picture the two of them made.

It wouldn't be long at all now.

*******

"Well I suppose we'll never get out of the basement, huh Scully?" Mulder mused aloud as the two of them entered their new office. It was down the hall from their old office. And though that office had been destroyed over three months ago, it seemed that the acrid scent of smoke still clung to the air in the basement, a reminder of what they had lost. 

Scully stepped gingerly into the new office and ran her fingers along the edge of one out of two desks that sat, abandoned in the room. She grinned slightly as Mulder voiced her thoughts from behind her. 

"Looks like you finally got a desk, Scully," the corner of his mouth turned up in a perpetual smirk as she surveyed the larger office and new furnishings. 

"It only took six years, now I have to wait another six and maybe I'll finally get my name on the door," she turned to him and met his smirk. 

He nodded and sat down in the chair behind one of the two desks, leaning back in it. "I guess you're stuck down here with me until then." 

"You're lucky I like you, or else I'd end up shooting you before I get my nameplate on that door."

He grinned once more at her as he dug around in his pocket for something. With a look of triumph on his face, he pulled out a bag of sunflower seeds and plopped them on the desk. 

"You forget, Scully, you've already shot me once. . ."

"And don't you forget it," she commented lightly as she sat down behind the other desk. 

"I didn't enjoy it," he continued, ignoring her comment. "Now, if you want a nameplate that bad. . ." She shook her head as he cracked a shell between his teeth and grinned over at her. She ran her hands across the surface of the desk and frowned. 

"Something doesn't feel right here. . .." She shook her head as Mulder looked at her curiously. She bit her lip and glanced around the room. 

"I know," she stood abruptly and shoved the desk across the room so it was across from her partner's desk. Mulder raised his eyebrows at her actions and Scully shrugged. 

"What? We need to put the filing cabinets somewhere, don't we?" She smiled again slightly and sat down again. 

"Plus, I can't see whether or not you're actually doing any work from over there." 

Mulder lifted a hand to his heart in mock hurt. "Me? Not do work? Scully, I am hurt." His partner merely rolled her eyes at him and sat back. The two of them sat that way for a few moments in comfortable silence. Scully was the first to break it. 

"Why didn't you ever tell me about Diana?" 

Mulder glanced up at her in surprise. "What?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me about Diana?" She repeated, she tucked an errant crimson strand of hair behind her ear and met his gaze. The sunflower seed that had been on its way to his mouth dropped, forgotten to the desktop. 

"The subject never came up."

Scully frowned and furrowed her eyebrows. "Would you tell me now?" 

Mulder sighed and sat up, pushing his sleeves up and running his fingers through his already unruly hair. "There's not much to tell. We worked together a bit when I was in VCU and got involved. When I found the X-Files she thought I was wasting my time. But I was fascinated by them, I didn't want to give something like this up," he gestured around the office. "I was certain that I could find the answers to Samantha's disappearance in here somewhere. I guess in the end she wanted me to make a choice, between the X-Files and her. . ." he shook his head and met her eyes. "I guess she didn't love me as much as I thought she did, because one night she just left and I never heard from her again until that day in Spender's meeting." 

Scully could hear all the things he wasn't saying louder than the things he was. The X-Files had been his one chance to find his sister, and she had wanted him to give that up. She had been essentially asking to choose between his sister and her. He had chosen his sister and in anger, she had left him. Odd, it seemed that her 'dislike'(that was the kind word to use) of Diana Fowley was growing by leaps and bounds every day. 

Scully nodded slowly as she processed all this. "Did you love her?"

Mulder narrowed his eyes in thought and met her eyes once more. "I thought I did at the time, but when she left, I didn't feel any real need to chase after her, to give everything up just so I could be with her."

Scully felt her throat tighten as she heard his words. The memory of a hallway came rushing back to her along with the memory of him rushing out the door, chasing after her. She cleared her throat softly and bent her head, fiddling with a stray paper clip on her desk. 

"Do you love her now?"

After a moment of silence the feeling of dread began to churn once more in her stomach and she dropped the paper clip to risk a glance up at him.

His face, normally so expressionless was shocked. At her tentative gaze he raised his eyebrows and almost smiled at the apprehension in her eyes. 

"Love her? Diana? You met her right? Of course I don't love Diana, she's nothing but a memory. Yes, I am sad that she is dead, she was still my friend a long time ago, but I'm not grieving for her, I have no reason to. I didn't really know her anymore anyway." 

The relief in Scully's face was evident and Mulder instantly sobered. Why would she be so concerned as to whether or not he was in love with someone else? 

"Mulder, what do you say that we tell each other anything important like this from now on? I'm sick of being lied to, and I don't want you to start." 

He smiled slightly and nodded. "I swear that if any of my skeletons pop out of the closet I will tell you about them before I shove them back in."

Scully chuckled and shook her head slightly. "Thank you, I think."

He turned serious once again and held her gaze. "I swear that I will not lie to you anymore, Scully."

Her smile was all the response he needed. 

*******

The man ran his fingers along the cool surface of the table, wincing at the memories of the horrors that he had witnessed in this very room. He glanced around the empty room one last time before retreating to the shadows. 

He pulled a small tube from his jacket pocket and smiled as he peered through the golden liquid inside. 

It was almost time. 

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

Dana Scully's Residence 

11:24 p.m.

*******

Dana Scully arrived home and promptly flopped onto her couch. 

Their first day back had been filled with paperwork and lectures from seemingly every superior in the FBI. Skinner had been the only kind one, he was the only one who understood what the X-Files meant to Mulder and herself.

Mulder. At the thought of her partner she smiled fondly. She knew how much he loathed 

paperwork, yet he had sat in their new office all day long like a good little agent, and gotten everything done that she asked of him. She had been so surprised that she hadn't been sure whether or not she should kiss him or ask him if he was sick. 

Though the former option seemed to hold the most appeal of late. 

She trailed her fingertips along her lips briefly, and then her cheek. Her frostbite that she had gained in Antarctica seemed to fading, and again she was left with only a few scars and memories of this recent near death experience. 

But something had happened out there between the hallway and the moment they lay, clasping each other in the Arctic snow. Something had changed, and, if it was possible, the two seemed closer than ever. It seemed Mulder would, literally, go to the ends of the earth for her. But he hadn't gathered the courage to kiss her again. 

She sighed and kicked off her shoes, leaning into the soft fabric, wishing her partner was there with her. She shook away her lingering thoughts and frowned, rubbing her the bridge of her nose with cramping fingers. It felt like her headache was coming back. She unbuttoned her jacket and shrugged it off, heading into her bedroom, still rubbing her forehead. 

She was not sure if she would sleep at all that night. 

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

2:01 a.m.

*******

His phone rang with a jarring discord in the night's stillness. He shifted in his position slightly snatch his cell phone from where it sat on the seat next to him. 

"Yeah," he barked softly into the phone. His voice was soft, menacing. This was not a man you would want to cross. 

There was a drawn out breath from the other end and a gravelly voice flooded his ear. "It is time." 

The man cursed silently as he glanced up at the dark apartment building. "It has been a year, do you think they would have noticed by now?" 

"No," another small sigh as if the man was exhaling smoke. "The device was only meant to keep the inevitable from occurring, now it is wearing down. You know it is time."

The man nodded briefly as he glanced at the clock, the dim numbers the only light in the car. The clock read 2:01. 

"Yes," he acknowledged with defeat coloring his tone. "It is time."

*******

Scully awoke to a pounding in her head. She rolled over and glared up at her alarm clock, whose digital numbers gleamed 2:05 into the darkness of her bedroom. Glaring at her clock, she sat up in the darkness and fumbled blindly for the lightswitch. Finding it, she snapped it on and gazed down at herself. There was blood all over her.

There was blood on her crisp white sheets, now stained an ugly, glaring crimson. She raised her hand to her mouth to quell the oncoming nausea. Her hand met a sticky warm substance, just under her nose. Scully closed her eyes and remembered the last time she had awoken in the middle of the night covered in blood. She glanced down at her hand. It was covered in blood. 

"Nosebleeds. . .." She whispered softly to herself, the shock at her cancer's sudden return 

overwhelming. She shook her head as if to clear it of this bad dream. 

She stumbled out of bed, stripping off her blood soaked clothes on her way to her bathroom. She kept one hand under her nose to stanch the blood that kept flowing, as her other hand reached out blindly and turned the faucet. 

She stood under the shower for a long time, watching her blood swirl down the drain, mixing with the water to create a sort of austere prism.

Then she slumped against the side of the tub, the hot water still pounding against her skin, blood still swirling freely in a garish maelstrom as she buried her head in her hands. 

There would be no savior for her this time. 

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

2:09 a.m.

*******

Mulder awoke abruptly, startled out of his nightmare. He glanced around in the darkness of his apartment for a brief, disoriented moment. The dream had seemed so real. The vision of Scully's cancer returning had caused him to break out into a cold sweat. He shook his head and rubbed his sleep fogged eyes, and stumbled into the kitchen, flicking the lightswitch on his way in. He dreamed often of his partner, he had long ago stopped analyzing such dreams. Some were nightmares like the one he had just had, others were a bit. . . more pleasant. . . but none had ever been as vivid, felt as real as this last one. 

He ran his fingers through the spiky brown mass that he preferred to call hair, and opened the refrigerator door, pulling out a pitcher of iced tea. He smiled briefly at the sight of it. Scully had brewed it for him the last time she had been over when she had made the mistake of looking into his refrigerator and searching for something halfway edible. 

Scully, his thoughts always returned to her. 

With a sigh he poured himself a glass of iced tea and took a long swig, leaning his head back against the refrigerator door and staring dully at the clock. 

The number flicked from 2:09 to 2:10 and he frowned. He had only gone to sleep about a half an hour ago. A person to be asleep for at least an hour for REM sleep to kick in. And you only had dreamt while in REM sleep. 

He stared at the clock for a few more seconds before realization sank in. The clock in Scully's bedroom in his dream had read 2:05.

His glass dropped to the counter, falling from numb fingers and sloshing onto the countertop. He rubbed his eyes once more, to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. But the clock read the same, this was too much of a coincidence.

He hurried back into his living room, pulling a shirt on over his head along the way. He fumbled for the phone and hit speed dial one. Scully's phone on the other end of the line rang with a dull tone in his ear. Briefly he ran through the location of phones in her home. Living room cordless, bedroom? Yes, there was a telephone on a table next to her bed. He had woken her up often enough in the past to know that she should be answering. 

But the phone just kept ringing, no answer. He cursed briefly and fluently at the phone before clicking it off and throwing it towards his couch. Without another thought he grabbed his jacket and keys and headed out the door. 

*******

He watched from his station of his darkened car as the man hurried out of his apartment building. He shook his head and clucked his tongue softly. The man was wearing only jeans and a gray T-shirt, his black leather jacket was clasped in one hand, his keys in the other, but he could see the gun strapped to his side. He smiled tightly and nodded. 

"It has begun," he whispered to himself as the other car pulled frantically out of the lot. 

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

Dana Scully's Residence 

2:34 a.m.

*******

"Scully?" He rapped on her door briefly, glancing around the hall nervously. "Scully?" 

Again, there was no response and he glanced down the hall again, before pulling out his spare key and opening her door. 

He stood in the darkness of her apartment for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust. Then he heard the water running in the bathroom.

Mulder's face fell and he could feel tears sting his eyes. "Oh god," he whispered. "Please don't let it have come true. . .." He hurried his steps and burst into the bathroom. The room was filled with steam and he winced at the heat. The running water almost concealed the muffled sobs coming from the direction of the bathtub. 

Almost. 

He grabbed a towel off of the rack beside the sink and pulled the shower curtain aside. Scully sat inside the tub, curled into fetal position, letting the hot water scald her skin. Mulder gazed at her for a long moment as he saw faint traces of red on the floor of the tub and he shook his head. 

"Oh Scully," he leaned down to touch her shoulder and she started violently at his touch. She stared up at him with wild eyes, not recognizing him. 

"Scully!" he caught her arm as it swung towards him. He pulled her towards him and wrapped one arm around her back, struggling to calm her. 

"Scully, it's me."

She stopped her struggles and glanced up at him, awareness slowly flooding her. "Mulder?"

He nodded in relief as she frowned and glanced down at herself, seemingly unashamed of her nakedness. She avoided his eyes as he wrapped the large towel around her still trembling form. She clutched the edges of the towel, keeping it wrapped firmly around herself. She reached up to touch her nose, it had finally stopped bleeding. She shook her head dazedly and sat down on the toilet. 

Mulder squatted in front of her, eyeing her cautiously. "Scully? Are you okay?"

She looked up and met his eyes for the first time and allowed a hint of a smile to cross over her lips. "I'm fine, Mulder," she shook her head as he mouthed her words along with her. He really did know her all too well. 

"You're not fine, Scully."

She glanced up at him, startled. He reached out and ran his fingers through her sodden tresses and shook his head, she saw him bite his lip as if he were in physical pain before he glanced away. "Your nose is bleeding, Scully."

She reached up with trembling fingers that came away bloody. Mulder sighed and stood, moving away from her, she almost cried out at the lack of contact. She was so cold without him, despite the steamy fog that still hung in the bathroom.

He moved to the door and grabbed her robe from where it hung. Without turning to look at her he thrust it towards her. 

"Put it on," his command was a whisper, more of a plea than an order, as she was sure he had intended it to be. She reached out and took the robe and his hand in one movement. 

"Mulder. . .." She found herself suddenly at a loss for words, what could she say to him that he wasn't already telling her with those tortured hazel eyes?

He held a finger up to her lips, "Not a word, Scully. I'm going to get you some clothes."

She nodded silently and wrapped her arms around herself. The thin cloth of the robe wasn't doing much to hide the fact that she was naked underneath. Scully blushed as she realized that her partner had just seen her naked and hadn't thought twice about it. 

She frowned at that thought and picked a comb up off the sink counter, running it through her tangled hair that was already curling up due to the water and the steam. What was Mulder doing at her apartment at two in the morning in the first place? She didn't remember calling him. 

With a sigh she shook her thoughts away, she had more pressing concerns at the moment. She set the comb down on the side of the sink and turned the faucet on, thrusting her bloody fingers under the refreshingly cold water. 

She splashed the cold water onto her heat-flushed face and rinsed the remaining blood away. She stared into the mirror for a long moment, no trace of the blood remained, but the memory of it remained imprinted indelibly into her brain. She knew that something like this would happen someday, but why now? Why when everything was finally going right for the two of them? 

She knew why. In her heart, she knew that they would never be left alone so long as they remained on the X-Files, she recalled Skinner's words from the previous day. Watch your back. He had been talking to Mulder, but this was happening to her now, not Mulder.

Instantly she cursed herself for her thoughts, the cancer affected Mulder as much as it affected her. In the hospital a year ago, he had risked his life, just to make sure that she was safe. Just so he could see himself if she was still alive. 

Scully stared at her reflection for a long time, watching as her hair, left untended by her, started to curl up and the steam dissipate from the room. She raised one hand to calm the unruly strands and bit her lip. The woman in the mirror stared back at her, her expression was cold and impassive. Scully wanted to scream at her, to tell her to express some emotion. 

But she remained in a silent staredown with her reflection, silently battling with herself as to whether or not she should go back into her bedroom and face her partner. 

With a sigh, she pulled her robe tighter around her and opened the door. 

She froze at the sight that greeted her on the other side. Mulder had thoughtfully stripped her bed of the bloody sheets and replaced it with clean ones, she felt her throat tighten a bit at his thoughtfulness. But he sat on her bed, clutching the bloody sheets in one hand, the other arm was propped up on his leg, his hand covering his face. Soft noises came from him and it took her a moment to realize that he was crying. 

She approached him cautiously, her heart breaking at the sight of him crying for her. She knelt in front of him and reached out a slender, pale hand to pull his own away from his face. His hand came away easily, but his eyes remained squeezed shut, as if he was afraid of what he might see if he opened them.

"Mulder, we don't know that it's my cancer. . .." Her reassurance of him sounded hollow even in her own ears. 

He opened his eyes, those tortured hazel eyes, to meet her clear blue ones. The underlying strength and determination he saw there was the same as he saw every day. She really didn't seem to comprehend, or care, what happened to her. 

He shook his head, unable to speak and Scully felt her heart wrench again. He cleared his throat and gestured towards the chair. 

"Your clothes are over there," his voice was gruff, hoarse and grating over tear thickened vocal cords. Scully glanced at him one last time then walked over to pick up a pair of jeans and a sweater. She cocked an eyebrow and glanced at him.

"You expect me to sleep in these?"

He shook his head, avoiding her gaze. "Of course not, we are going to the hospital," he raised a hand at her impending protest. "Not a word, Scully. I'm not going risk anything this time." He furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at her, the pain in his eyes evident and she wondered again at what had possessed him to drive to her apartment at two in the morning.

She swallowed hard and nodded as he silently exited the room. 

She stared at the door for a long moment after he was gone, praying, more for his sake than her own, that her cancer was not back. She didn't think he would be able to handle her death. She shook her head slightly and glanced down at the clothing in her hands. A faint smile passed over her lips as she noticed that he had picked out her favorite sweater and most comfortable pair of jeans, he just knew her too well. 

She pulled on her clothes reluctantly and tossed the blood stained robe aside, she ran her fingers through her rapidly drying hair once then pulled open her door. 

She found him standing at the window in her living room. The pale golden glow of the streetlights illuminated his features as he leaned his forehead against the cool glass. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him and she just stood for that moment, watching him. 

The pain in his face was evident, and she realized, not for the first time, that he hurt just as much when she was hurting. The lines in his forehead seemed deeper in the harsh glow and his eyes gleamed with that perpetual sadness in the darkness. 

Scully approached him quietly from behind, "Mulder, we can go to the hospital in the morning, why don't you get some sleep?" 

He didn't move. He just shifted his eyes from the street to her face. He watched her silently for a moment as the silvery starlight and the pale golden lamplight shone from the outside and into the room, enlightening her worried features and causing flames to flicker upon her hair. Her fearless beauty struck him and for a moment, he ceased to breathe. She was not afraid of death, he had learned that a long time ago. He feared her death more than she did. 

"No Scully," the soft inflection in his voice made her heart ache with a fierce longing that she had long thought buried. "We're going, now." 

He picked up his jacket and slung it around her shoulders, leading her out the door. 

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

D.C. Hospital 

3:12 a.m.

******* 

Scully sat in the stiff plastic chair of the hospital waiting room, listening to her partner converse quietly with several of the nurses. Being the doctor, she knew she should be the one talking to them, but knowing Mulder was taking care of her was oddly soothing. She was so tired, and all she wanted right now was to just sit here, wrapped up in her partner's soft, sweet smelling leather jacket and sleep.

Well, actually she'd rather be at home asleep, her partner replacing the jacket currently wrapped around her body. . . but that was a different story. 

She leaned back in the chair and rubbed her neck idly, closing her eyes as a wave of fatigue washed over her. Why were all of the hospital rooms full at 3:00 in the morning anyway? It just wasn't normal. She sighed and burrowed her nose into the butter soft leather of Mulder's jacket, breathing in his distinct spicy scent. She felt the tense muscles in the back of her neck relax slightly at the comforting and familiar redolence. It filled her nostrils and overwhelmed that sharp tang that she naturally associated with hospitals; the smell of cleaning products and sickness and of death. As a med. student she had always disliked hospitals, simply because of how they smelled, they reminded her of death. 

There had been some twisted irony in her becoming a forensic pathologist, seeing as how she hated death so much. . .

No, it was in the last several years that her hatred for hospitals grew. There were many memories that she did not wish to recall that had occurred in this same hospital, or one just like it. She had only a few happy hospital memories, and even those had been bittersweet. 

One of these moments had been outside of Penny Northern's hospital room, when she had told Mulder that she was going to return to work, return to him. 

There were moments when she could still feel her arms around her, still feel his lips on her skin. In the midst of all that chaos, Mulder had maintained his unwavering belief that she would fight her cancer, he had been her faith in the dark months that had followed. Those few months had been the hardest of her life, she wasn't sure if she could go through all that again, she wasn't sure if she could put Mulder through it again. . .

Her musings were interrupted by a slight touch on her hand. She opened her eyes to meet the hazel depths that belonged to her partner. Mulder crouched in front of her, his forearms resting on his thighs, his hand covering hers partially. The anxiety in his eyes was evident and she managed a weak smile to try to reassure him. 

"You manage to wake every doctor in the hospital up, Mulder?"

He grinned weakly, "Nah, just the ones we need. They have a spot up in neurology for you," he swallowed hard. "They want to take some x-rays," he trailed off quietly, as if it was painful for him to even consider the thought of her cancer returning. 

She moved her other hand out of the long sleeves of the jacket to grip both of his hands. "You should go home, get some rest, I can stay the night here without you, you don't have to stay for me."

His eyes darkened and she could see his nostrils flare slightly as if shocked that she would even suggest it. "I'm staying Scully, I would never be able to rest at home anyway. . ."

She smiled gratefully and squeezed his hands. It was the closest thing to a genuine smile since she had woken in a pool of blood. He glanced down at their intertwined hands a moment as she did the same. She leaned her forehead against his, blowing out an exhausted breath and reveling in his nearness.

"Doctor Scully?" a soft voice broke through the tranquillity of the moment and Mulder and Scully both turned to glance up at the doctor, their heads still leaning against the other. 

"We can take you up to neurology now," she gestured towards the wheelchair in front of her and Scully pulled away from her partner long enough to shoot him a look.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own," she informed the doctor. The doctor only shook her head, dark curls bouncing slightly. 

"I know, but it's hospital policy Miss."

Scully shot Mulder a look that seemed to say 'You'll be getting it for this later' and sighed her acquiescence with a small bob of her head as she slid into the wheelchair. 

"Rick," the doctor waved over a male nurse, with lighter hair and a weary expression. 

"Take Doctor Scully to neurology, I want to be informed the moment her results are in." The man nodded and began wheeling the chair down the hall. Scully's fingers slipped from her partner's as she moved away and he stepped back into the shadows of the brightly lit corridor. 

"I'll be waiting for you here," he called to her softly, she merely nodded slightly in response, her eyes locked with his. After a long moment the contact was broken, and she turned her head away. 

Mulder slumped back into the plastic chair with a heavy sigh as the doctor regarded him with a curious glance. "You know, we have several rooms with semi decent beds, the residents usually use them when on long shifts, but I'm sure there is one open that you could use until your wife gets back."

Mulder glanced up at her with a thin smile, not bothering to correct what she had said. 

"Thank you, but all I really need is some coffee, where is the cafeteria?"

"Second floor, right down the hall from neurology," she winked at him so slightly it could have been a twitch. 

"Thank you," was his automatic response before moving down the hall towards the elevator. 

The doctor watched him go with a puzzled discordance. 

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

4:10 a.m.

*******

He sat in the stark cafeteria, arms folded on the table, head resting on his palms. The cup of coffee he had poured an hour ago for himself sat cold in front of him, the clouds of steam swirling away and dissipating under the harsh fluorescence of the overhead lights. His leather jacket was sprawled across an empty chair to his side, the soft brown edges gleaming from the dim starlight that filtered in through the window beside him. Scully had handed his jacket back to him before she had slid into that wheelchair and headed up to neurology. 

That had been an hour ago, he had promptly come up to the cafeteria, poured himself a cup of coffee and collapsed into the chair, he hadn't moved since. 

The gentle patter of the rain that beat steadily against the window soothed his raw nerves slightly as his thoughts whirled round and round in his head, focusing only on one thing. 

Scully.

He had no idea what he would do if she was sick again. The last time he had nearly killed himself in the process of finding a cure for her, which would have been preferable to living without her anyway. If the chip had for some reason stopped working, he had no idea how to fix it, or cure her again. And the thought of her death was something that balled into dread at the pit of his stomach and gnawed at him. Why did this have to happen now? Just when everything was going close to something resembling okay for them. 

His thoughts were interrupted rudely by the scraping of the chair across from him rasping across the hard ceramic tiles of the floor. Mulder shook away his fatigue and glanced up, fully expecting to see his partner standing across from him prepared to deliver the dreadful news.

Instead there was a slim man seated in the chair across from him, sipping his coffee delicately. His slender, pointed nose wrinkled at the offensive taste and he set the beverage down on the table so lightly that there wasn't even a ripple in the liquid. 

"Offensive stuff really," the man informed Mulder, his low voice colored with a quiet British accent. "I personally don't see how people can stand it."

Mulder raised an eyebrow in a gesture that his partner would have been proud of and cocked his head to one side. "Are you here for a reason? Or just to insult my taste in coffee? Or were all the seats at the popular table taken and you got stuck with me?" He nodded to the cafeteria which was empty save for a few stray med. students struggling to stay awake or study. 

The man fixed his cold ebony eyes on Mulder and shook his head. "You're in danger Agent Mulder," the straight matter of fact tone in which he stated it sent chills up Mulder's spine. 

"So?" Mulder asked, a skeptical inflection seeping into his tone. "I'm always in danger, next you'll be telling me that you have been watching me for 'quite some time now.'"

"I've been watching your career for quite some time now," the man continued, seemingly 

unperturbed by Mulder's interruption. Mulder snorted and wrapped his fingers around the cold mug for a lack of anywhere better to place them.

"Yeah? Apparently lots of people have, so get in line. . ."

The man fixed him with a cold stare that halted the next words coming out of Mulder's mouth. He stroked his thin mustache idly and narrowed his eyes, as if seeing Mulder for the first time. 

"I know you know why I am here. It is no secret anymore that all of your previous contacts have worked for them, at one point or another," his tone had taken on a slightly apathetic resonance. He traced the pattern on the tabletop lightly with nimble fingers. 

"I won't lie to you, Agent. I have been sent specifically by them. I'm here to warn you."

Mulder felt his hand go instinctively for his gun at the man's words, but one slender hand clasped over his own and he met the man's dark unfeeling eyes again. 

"Warn me about what?" He spat, moving his hand back to the tabletop. 

"I think you know why I'm here, Agent." 

Mulder nodded wearily, rolling his head from side to side to ease the stiff cramps there. "Scully," the pain in his voice was thinly concealed at the mention of his partner and the other man nodded. 

"I can get you the cure -- the real cure that is."

Mulder leveled his gaze with the other mans bottomless dark eyes. "What happened to the chip?"

"Exactly what you were afraid would happen, Agent. It disintegrated, stopped working."

Mulder drew in a sharp breath. "But why?"

The man's eyes finally flickered something that could have been remorse, but the emotion was gone as quickly as it had appeared. 

"They no longer need her, she is merely an expendable now. They know she is your greatest weakness, but also your greatest strength. They will not kill her. . . not yet anyway. . . They want you to watch her die, they want you to lose hope in the quest. They figure that this is the best way to kill you, they know you cannot live without her."

Mulder bit his lip and narrowed his eyes at the other man, "you say it like you know it's true. How do you, really?"

The man shrugged, his dark clothing masking him in more shadows than Mulder would have thought possible in the bright room. The man seemed to wear shadows as a second skin, never revealing too much about himself. "I don't know. But I have seen you two together. . . and if you didn't care for her, why would you be here at," his dark eyes flickered to the clock above Mulder's head. "Four thirty in the morning? Have you asked yourself that, Agent?"

Mulder sighed heavily and scrubbed at his eyes with his fist. "All right, tell me about this cure of yours. Why are you giving it to me? What are the conditions."

The man stopped tracing circles onto the tabletop for a moment and raised his eyebrows as if in thought. "That's simple. Transfer out of the X-Files. You are no longer a threat to them, and neither is she. They would have no reason to kill her then. . ."

Mulder stared back at the man as it all fell into place. They had killed Diana, probably killed Spender by now as well. All because they had wanted the X-Files closed. Why had he been foolish enough to think that they would stop there? He cursed himself for not have seeing this coming. 

The man stood from his chair gracefully and stroked his mustache once more. "Think about what I have said, Agent Mulder. I will contact you again."

"Wait," Mulder called to him softly as he began to move away. "What's your name?" 

The man smiled tightly, more of a grimace than a genuine smile. "You can call me Benedict," was his simple response, and then he was gone.

Mulder sighed again, and turned his face to the window, watching as the drops of rain slid slowly down the pane. He shook his head and dropped his head to his hands, folded onto the table.

*******

end chapter one

*******


	2. Truth Enslaved

*******

A Snatch Of Tiger Lilies 

Chapter two 

by: Emily O'Donnell

*******

disclaimers and such in chapter one. This is all story. 

Spoilers: References to The Host, Ascension and One Breath, Paper Clip, Memento Mori, Emily and Christmas Carol, Fight the Future

Thanks to everyone who sent me feedback.

I owe you all one.

*******

"Through this world I stumbled, so many times betrayed.

Trying to find an honest word, to find the truth enslaved. . ."

~Sarah McLachlan, Possession

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

Reflecting Pool 

6:15 a.m.

*******

The gray, early morning twilight reflected in his eyes, transforming the swirling hazel into a stormy grayish green. The color of the angry sea, just before lightning struck and the rain pounded the sands. 

He sat for a long time on that bench where they had first started to meet at so many years before. He sat on the bench that housed thousands of memories for them as the rain churned the waters of the pool. Memories of a time long past resurfaced, and he recalled another Scully he had known. This Scully was young, her delicate features relatively free of the wrinkles she had gained from years with him. This Scully did not know the pain of losing her only sister, did not know what it was like to return after three months, with no recollection of what had been done to her. This Scully had never had the misfortune to become intimate with the haunting shadow of cancer and looming death. The Scully he recalled sitting next to him had never been encased in ice, an unknown thing taking over her body, using her as an incubator. Smiles came more easily to the Scully he had known back then. 

They had sat on this same bench three years earlier, calmly discussing a large worm, a flukeman. It had been shortly after that case that she had been abducted, and then a chain reaction of horrors had gone off.

Mulder shook his head and he turned to gaze at the empty spot where his partner had once sat. He could practically hear their words from all those years ago resounding in his ears. . . 

'I've been thinking of leaving. . .'

'The Bureau? What would you do?'

'Pursue my work into the paranormal somehow. . .'

'You could come back to Quantico. . .'

'They don't want us working together, Scully. And right now that's the only reason I can think of for staying. . .'

Mulder shook his head at himself, he had been so ready to walk away from it all then. He had been ready a thousand times ever since that moment to let her walk away from him. . .. And yet only a few weeks earlier she had told him to his face that she was finally doing it, she was finally walking away from him. . . and he hadn't let her go. He had run after her and downright pleaded that she stay with him. . . 

What a difference a few years had made. . . 

The most recent memory of this pool had been made only a few weeks earlier, as the two of them had been returned from yet another nightmare. The Scully he knew of that memory was different, changed from the woman who sat on the bench and laughed at him. She was sadder, weary from knowing all that she did. Deflated by the fact that the Scully who had laughed at the idea of a flukeman would never have believed that she would one day she would be believing in this nonsense as well. 

The thought depressed Mulder immensely.

He dropped his head to his hands, the rain had subsided as the sun had rose. The colors of dawn broke through the gray mist, a splash of color in the darkness. The reds and golden oranges of the morning light reflected upon the glossy red orange petals of the flowers he had picked up from a grocer along the way. 

Mulder picked the snatch of tiger lilies up off the bench. He turned his face towards the iridescent rainbow of the dawn's light. The tear tracks that had dried on his face earlier shone with a shimmery glow in the light of day as clutched the flowers in one hand, and made a decision. 

With his heart breaking in his chest, he turned back to his car and headed back towards the hospital. 

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

D.C. Hospital

6:35 a.m.

*******

She stood in the stark hospital room, her white hospital gown fluttering around her as she stared out at the sunrise. Mulder eased the door open and poked his head in, prepared to greet her, but was stopped in his tracks by the sight that greeted him on the inside.

The red glow of the dawn played patterns on her hair, dancing the color from scarlet to gold, she was a mixture of the two. The golden light that shone in illuminated her blue eyes with a radiant shimmer and for a moment Mulder felt as though all the breath had been stolen from his chest. She really was beautiful, he took it for granted sometimes, but her delicate beauty at that moment brought tears back to his eyes. 

The single shaft of light she stood in beamed in through the open top part of the window, the light breeze of the early morning stirring the crimson strands of her hair with invisible fingers. She pressed one hand to the cool glass and drew in a steady breath.

"Did you go home to sleep at all?" She asked him quietly, not bothering to turn to see him.

He shook his head as he approached her from behind, "Of course not, this is me we're talking about after all, Scully." That earned a small smile from her and a slight shake of her head. 

"Mulder, you need to sleep. . ."

"What I need, is to be here with you, make sure you're okay." He bent his head to rest his chin on her shoulder and brought his hand around from behind, revealing the snatch of tiger lilies he had been holding for the past hour. 

"These are for you," he offered. She could feel her shake her head and move her hand forward to take them from his. 

"I stole 'em from a guy down the hall with a broken leg," he forced a smile at the old joke. "He'll never catch me."

She lifted the flowers up to her nose and inhaled deeply. "They're beautiful, Mulder, thank you." She set the tiger lilies down on the small table next to her and twisted around to face him and found her face inches away from his. Their lips hovered over each others for a breathless moment, before he straightened and cleared his throat. 

"They really can't compare to you," he shrugged as if it were no big deal and Scully found herself blushing.

"Agent Mulder, I do believe that was an outright compliment!" She grinned slightly and he smiled down at her affectionately, and then it was as if it was just the two of them again, lost in their own world. Nothing was there to hurt them, no disease, no aliens, no chain smoking conspirators, no shadowy men named Benedict, just Mulder and Scully. Scully and Mulder.

And then the door banged open, causing the two of them to jump and whirl around at the noise, each instinctively reaching for weapons that were not there. 

The doctor smiled at them distractedly as they relaxed. Reality set back in with the first word out of the doctor's mouth.

"We have back the results of your tests. . ."

Mulder heard the sharp intake of breath from the petite woman next to him and was surprised to feel her slender fingers reach out for his own. He squeezed her hand in a silent reassurance as the two of them faced the doctor, presenting a united front. 

Scully held her other hand out to the doctor and swallowed hard, clearing her throat. "If you don't mind, I'd like to take a look at them myself. . . I'm a doctor."

The small man smiled understandingly at her, "Of course, I'll be right outside if you have any questions." He placed the large manila folder into her outstretched palm and shot a glance at Mulder, who was watching his partner intently, before backing out of the room.

Scully stood for a long moment, the folder clutched tightly in her hand. Mulder bit his lip and approached her quietly from behind, reaching out to stroke the side of her face. She jumped slightly at his touch, as if she had forgotten that he was there at all. 

"Hey," he murmured softly, his breath caressing her ear gently. "Whatever those x-rays show, we are going to get through this together, Scully. . ."

She tilted her face up slightly meeting his eyes, blue battled with shifting hazel pools for a few seconds, then Scully blew out a sigh and lowered her head. 

She nodded almost imperceptibly as if deciding something, and crossed the room to flick the switch on the board, lighting it up with a harsh whiteness. 

She pulled several glossy tomograms from the folder, frowning slightly at each. She pinned three up against the board and frowned at the sight of them, Mulder stepped into place by her side and glanced from the x-rays to her. 

"What do they tell you Doctor Scully?"

Scully tugged a lip into her mouth with her teeth and chewed gently on it, "This one," she gestured at the first. "Was taken when I was returned after my abduction, see it's dated." She stepped forward to run her fingers lightly over the date on the smooth surface. 

"November 4, 1994. This x-ray," she gestured at the second. "Was taken when I came to the hospital back in 1997, when I was first diagnosed with cancer. This was the first x-ray you saw." Mulder was no longer looking at the x-rays, but rather at her. She was speaking of herself with a detached clinical perspective, not allowing any of it to settle in. . .

"You can clearly see the tumor here. . .." She lifted her fingertips to settle over the light mass that was evident in her skull and blinked. A ragged breath escaped as she fought to regain her composure. Mulder could see tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, gleaming in the harsh light. He moved his hand to settle at its usual protective spot at the small of her back. 

"It's okay Scully, you don't have to be strong for me. . ."

She blinked once and shook her head slightly, heedless of his closeness or his words. "This next x-ray was taken just a few weeks ago, just we returned from Antarctica. . .." Mulder found his gaze drifting from her back to the glossy x-rays once more. 

"There is a small growth, but it is benign, harmless thanks to my remission. . ." She dropped her gaze from the x-rays to the folder still dangling from her fingertips. With a shuddered breath and shaking fingers she reached in and pulled out the last and most recent x-ray. She pinned it up on the board, along side all the others and stepped back again. 

Right into her partner's waiting arms. 

She let loose a quiet, quaking sob as she dropped the folder that had hung in her tenuous grasp, and shut her eyes at the sight that greeted her. She shook her head and turned her face, burying it into Mulder's chest. He felt his own eyes fill with tears at the sight of the x-ray she had just pinned up as he felt her shiver in his arms. 

"How is this possible?" Scully demanded, her voice muffled by the fabric of Mulder's shirt was still evidently colored by furious, grieving tones. "It couldn't have come back so quickly! It's logistically impossible! It couldn't have grown so fast in so little time. . .." She shook her head furiously as Mulder simply stared at the evidence on the board in front of them.

The x-ray showed a growth twice as large as the one in her x-ray from January of 1997. 

It was true, Scully's cancer had returned. 

And it seemed that she had less than a month to live.

*******

end chapter two.

*******


	3. Little Earthquakes

*******

Chapter Three

*******

"And I hate

and I hate:

elevator music,

the way we fight. 

The way I'm left here silent. . . 

Oh, those little Earthquakes, here we go again. . .

I can't reach you. . .

Give me life. . .

Give me pain. . .

Give me myself again. . ."

~Tori Amos, Little Earthquakes

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

D.C. Hospital 

*******

Mulder stood there for a long time, clutching his partner protectively in his arms. The gray, yet bright sunlight that filtered in through the window was a glaring intrusion into the dark mood that hung over the two of them. 

Mulder tore his eyes from the x-rays that hung on the wall in front of them, to Scully who had gone still in his arms. Her head leaned heavily against his chest. Her shoulders shifted up and down against him with shallow unsteady breaths. But not a sound escaped her. 

"Scully?" He moved one hand from where it was resting on his back to her stroke her hair lightly. She made no response, didn't stir at all. 

"Scully. . .." He shut his eyes, at a loss for words. There was nothing he could say to console her, she remained impassive in his arms and he blew out a sigh, burying his face in her hair. "I'm sorry, Scully. . . I'm so sorry. . .." That seemed to gain response, she lifted her head slightly and frowned at him, pulling away slightly. 

"It's not your fault, Mulder, I just. . .." She turned her head away from his piercing gaze and shook her head slightly, muffling a sigh. 

"Could you just take me home? Please?" She added, sensing a protest from his end. "I just want to go home." The sadness and underlying weariness to her tone tore at his heart. He watched her for a moment as she folded her arms against herself and hugged herself slightly. This was all because of him. But he could fix it. . . there was no hesitation as his decision came back to him. He would fix this. 

He nodded slowly at her, "Sure Scully, get dressed and I'll take you home. . ."

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

8:00 a.m. 

*******

The silence in the car was deafening as Mulder drove through the streets of D.C. Scully was curled up on the seat next to him, her head leaning against the window as she watched the rain pour down once more with a renewed furor. 

She traced a single raindrop lightly with her fingertip as it streaked its path down the other side of the cool glass to merge with the rest of the rainwater at the bottom. She bit her lip softly, wondering once again why she was sitting so calmly in the car with her partner as if it were just any normal day.

She stole a glance over at Mulder who was watching the road intently. She was grateful for that, because if he was not watching the road then he would probably be watching her, and she just wanted to be able to really look at him for once. 

His forehead was creased and she could tell he was thinking hard about something, probably blaming himself for her fate, she mused to herself. Mulder had that annoying habit, he tended to blame things that were totally out of his control on himself. He had blamed himself the last time she had cancer, she knew that he thought he ruined her life.

Oh Mulder, she thought at her partner, smiling faintly. You may never know how wrong you are. . you saved my life . . . It was true, he had saved her in more ways than the one. He had saved her from a life of doing their work for them. He had told her the truth, trusted her and he had let her into his world. And there was no where she would rather be. 

She knew she had to tell him. . . and soon. . . 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the car slowing to a stop. She glanced over at Mulder curiously and he forced a thin smile for her. 

"You're home," he whispered softly. She glanced up out the window to see her building. She looked at it as if she had never seen it before, the wan light glinting off the raindrops that pelted her windows seemed unfamiliar. 

He was wrong, this wasn't her home. It was merely a place she stayed at. Nothing made this place home, the seedy motel rooms that the two of them stayed at while on cases were more home than this place because Mulder was always there with her. 

She tilted her head to one side and rolled down the window slightly, allowing the damp breeze to blow into the car and spritz her with droplets of water. A crack of lightning streaked across the dark skies, lighting her face up with a faint golden glow, before fading and returning to the harsh grayness of the world. 

She closed her eyes a moment, feeling the cold vapor on her skin. Then shook her head, "Stay with me, Mulder." He furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of what she was asking of him. 

"Scully you should really sleep. . ."

"I don't want to sleep," she informed him quietly. She turned her steady blue eyed gaze to meet his for the first time and he saw no grief there, no self pity. No, only a calm understanding and acceptance. That acceptance angered him, she had given up on her life, he had never known this woman to give up on anything, but now she was simply letting go of her life. 

She sighed, as if reading his thoughts, and reached out to grip his hand. "I'm not giving up on anything, Mulder. But I stopped being afraid of death a long time ago, I accepted this fate once before," he could see her swallow hard. "I can do it again." She ran her fingers absently through her hair, damp from the rain and already curling up. She swallowed hard once again and pursed her lips. 

"Now we both saw those x-rays, Mulder. . . and the doctor told us himself that I have less than a month to live." She could see him flinch at his words and her eyes stung at the pain in his evident in his own. 

"Mulder, I don't have much time left. But I don't want to die without. . ." she frowned and cleared her throat. This was harder than she thought it would be. 

"I need to tell--" she was cut off abruptly by the shrill ringing of a phone. They both jumped at the noise, their intertwined hands flying apart, each to reach for their respective cell phones. 

"It's mine," Scully informed him. She held a hand up and flicked the phone on. 

"Scully."

"Dana? I've been worrying about you, I called you at home and when you didn't pick up. . .." Her mother's familiar voice greeted her anxiously over the phone line. Scully closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. 

"Hi mom, I'm sorry I forgot about breakfast today but I was ah, a little busy." 

"Is anything wrong Sweetheart?" Her mother asked gently. Scully scrubbed at her eyes with one hand and bit her lip, cracking one eye open to glance at Mulder. His expression was bland as usual, but Scully could see the concern in his eyes. He cocked his head to one side as if asking a question only she knew. She frowned a moment in response, then relaxed with a small nod. 

"No mom, actually, everything is not all right. Can I meet you in an hour? I don't want to talk like this." Scully involuntarily winced at her words, when had she become so paranoid? 

Mulder listened as Scully's mother said something on the other end of the line, Scully nodded and hung up the phone. He averted his eyes from her face as she turned to look at him, the moment had passed, whatever she was going to tell him would have to wait. 

"You going to meet your mother for breakfast?" his voice was soft and subdued, an underlying trace of regret underlying his words. Scully gazed at him for a long moment thoughtfully and nodded.

"Yeah, we were supposed to have breakfast today, but I forgot . . .." She trailed off and Mulder nodded again, gazing off into the misty distance. 

"You going to tell her?"

Scully bit her lip and nodded slightly, clenching both of her hands together nervously. "I'm going to try," she whispered, the comment almost lost in the crack of thunder that rolled by. 

Mulder turned to look at her and reached out with one hand to trace the contours of her cheek with one finger. "Do you want me to come with you?" 

His touch on her skin took her breath away, it was a simple unconscious act that came so naturally to him that it made her heart ache. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, shaking her head slightly. She couldn't let him get to her like this. 

"No, I'll be fine on my own, Mulder. You should go home and get some sleep."He managed to crack a small smile and that and she grinned slightly at her own words. 

"Yeah okay Scully, but you call me when you get back from breakfast with your mom okay?" 

She nodded and reached for the door handle. "Okay Mulder."

He caught her arm as she prepared to step out of the car, the wind blew the rain in, spraying the both of them with droplets. "Call me, Scully, I mean it. . ."

"I will," she said softly. "We still need to talk, Mulder. I mean it." She hesitated for a second, then leaned over to kiss him softly on the cheek. 

"Thank you for taking care of me," she whispered into his ear. Then she pulled away and 

disappeared into the rain. 

He watched her petite figure hurry through the rain, her red hair streaming behind her like a crimson banner in the dim sunlight that filtered through the clouds. His jacket was pulled tight around her shoulders and he smiled morosely at the image she made. The patter of the raindrops against his windshield drew his attention from his partner's departing form. He shook his head ruefully and started the engine again. 

Lightning arced across the sky and the rain still fell, as if the heavens were weeping for the two of them. 

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

D.C. Cafe 

9:00 a.m.

*******

Scully sat in the cafe, fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of cappuccino, watching idly as the vapor drifted gently away into ether as she sat alone at the empty table. 

She bit her lip and lifted the mug to her lips to take a sip. The warm liquid tasted bitter as it slid down her throat and she grimaced, setting the mug down and rubbing the bridge of her nose wearily. She tried to remember how long she had slept the night before. 

Last night, had it only been last night that she had woken up in a pool of blood? It seemed like years . . . She furrowed her brow and leaned her head against her hand. Mulder had appeared last night, and in retrospect she realized that she had never asked him why he had been there in the first place. Mulder, she sighed softly. He had left her an hour ago so she could visit with her mother, but all she wanted to do was stay with him. She fingered the soft leather of his jacket which was draped across the back of her chair and smiled ruefully, even when he wasn't with her his thoughtfulness lingered. 

The scraping of chair legs against the carpet attracted her attention and she glanced up to find her mother gazing down at her with concern. 

"Hey mom," Scully managed a tired smile at her mother as she sat down in the chair across from her. Scully ran her fingers lightly through her rain dampened hair and took another sip of her bitter coffee. 

"Dana honey, what's wrong?" Scully smiled wryly, just like her mother, straight to the point. Scully set her mug down onto the table with a dull thud. 

"Mom. . .." She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed them wearily. "I woke up last night with a nosebleed." Her mother's sharp intake of breath was all the answer she needed. Scully opened her eyes and faced her mother. "Mulder found me, he took me to the hospital. My cancer is back." 

Margaret Scully drew in a long breath as she processed the information. She reached out to take her daughter's hand and Scully felt the familiar stinging behind her eyes. This wasn't fair to her mother, she didn't deserve to go through this again. She could see the wetness glistening in her mother's dark eyes. 

"How long?" Margaret's voice was husky and her tone colored by pain and concern for her youngest daughter. 

Scully averted her eyes and gazed out the window at the rain that still pounded gently against the earth. "A month or so, the tumor has grown, it is no longer benign. It is slowly killing me." She choked on her words and shut her eyes against the burning tears she could feel threatening to fall. 

A tug on her hand pulled her back to reality and she opened her eyes again to see her mother. "Oh Dana," her mother stood and gathered the younger Scully in her arms, ignoring the attention they were attracting. 

"I don't want to die mom, I told Mulder I wasn't afraid of death, but he is in so much pain himself from all this. I don't want to die, there is so much I still have to do. . ." a single tear burned it's path down her cheek, scarring her flesh with it's wetness. 

Her mother swallowed hard, "oh sweetie, it's all right to be afraid. I'm here for you" She frowned and held her tightly swallowed hard and frowned. "You said Fox took you to the hospital? Where is he now?" Margaret Scully knew her daughter, and if she was sick again then Fox Mulder would not be letting her out of his sight. 

"I sent him home to get some sleep," Scully cleared her throat, ashamed of her breakdown. "He showed up at my apartment around two in the morning, I wasn't in the best state of mind." She eased back into her seat and wiped her face with the palms of her hands. "He took care of me."

Margaret frowned and sat down next to her daughter. "What was he doing at your apartment at two in the morning?"

Scully frowned, "I'm not really sure actually." She met her mother's skeptical gaze (the one Scully must have inherited) and shook her head. 

"Honestly mom, Mulder and I have this odd. . . connection," she smiled slightly and cocked her head. "He knows when I'm in pain." 

Margaret Scully nodded understandingly, she had figured out this connection the first moment she had met Fox Mulder. "You need to talk to him, Dana." 

Scully nodded and took another sip of her coffee, "I know." 

Margaret reached out to grasp her hand and squeeze it tightly. "He loves you, you know." 

Scully simply looked away to stare out at the pouring rain. 

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

Fox Mulder's residence

5:00 p.m. 

*******

The phone rang shrilly in the silence, jerking Fox Mulder out of his uneasy sleep. He sat up wearily and rubbed his eyes, glaring at the clock beside his bed that gleamed 5:00 p.m. He cursed under his breath and fumbled for his phone. 

"Mulder," he barked into the receiver, instantly regretting it as the thought that it could be Scully on the other end of the line popped into his mind. 

"Agent Mulder," the faintly familiar smooth British tone slithered over the telephone line. Mulder suppressed a groan, he had been hoping that this moment wouldn't have to come so soon. 

He sat up and scrubbed his face with his palm. "Yeah." 

"Have you made your decision?" Something in Benedict's tone made Mulder shiver. He stood and crossed over to the window, it was still raining outside.

"Yes, I've made my decision, where can we meet?"

*******

Thursday

September 10, 1998

Reflecting Pool

5:30 p.m.

*******

Twice in one day, Mulder mused. People were going to start to think that he lived at the reflecting pool. He picked up a flat stone from beside the pool and sent it skipping across the smooth glassy surface of the reflecting pool. He watched in silence as the ripples joined with the light raindrops as they spread out across the pool until they faded away. 

"Agent Mulder," Benedict's voice sounded from behind him and Mulder turned in surprise. He stood in the shadows, his sharp features hidden in the gray light. 

"Do you have the cure?" Mulder asked. 

"Do you have your letter requesting transfer?" 

Mulder stared at him for a long moment, squinting at him in the dim daylight through the rain. He sighed and dug around in the inside pocket of his trenchcoat, producing a small envelope and handing it to the other man. 

Benedict raised one eyebrow as he scanned the contents of the letter. "Good," he handed the letter back to Mulder and nodded. "You turn that in tomorrow and I will get you the cure." He turned to leave, but Mulder caught his arm. 

"Wait a minute, how do I know that you're telling the truth? How do I know that this isn't all some big hoax? How do I know that she won't die anyway? You come to me with instructions and promise me that she'll be fine if I transfer out but how do I know that you won't kill the both of us?" His voice rose with every word until he was practically shouting in the man's face. 

Benedict fixed him with an icy dark stare and twisted his arm around from Mulder's grasp. "You don't have to trust me Agent Mulder, but I'm your only chance to save her." He flicked his wrist and produced a small vial full of golden liquid, similar to the one the Well Manicured Man had given Mulder only a few weeks earlier. 

"This is your precious cure, I could give it to you now but they would kill me, I'm doing this to help your partner Agent Mulder. I was there when she was abducted, I know what they did to her." Mulder's eyes widened in rage at this and he raised his hand at the man. 

And was met by a gun under his chin. 

"Your partner has gone through a lot of bullshit for you, and frankly I feel sorry for her. This is your chance to make up for all of that." The vial disappeared again and Mulder let out a sigh. 

"As long as Scully is better, I'll do anything," Mulder let out a breath and met the man's cold gaze. "As long as I can still see her. . ."

"You can't."

Mulder stared at the man for a long moment, not comprehending his words. "What?"

Benedict lowered his gun to aim it at Mulder's side, wary of passing tourists. "Part of the deal, Agent Mulder. You transfer out of the X-Files but who's to say that they won't kill her some other way? You have to leave her, forever."

Mulder was livid with fury and despair. "This was never mentioned!" He hissed at the other man. "Why didn't you tell me this?!?" 

Benedict holstered his gun and smirked. "You said you would do anything, but you won't leave her? Even if staying with her would kill you both?"

Mulder glared at the other man. "I'll put in the transfer tomorrow. You go back to those bastards who control you and tell them they'll never hear from me again, as long as you leave her alone."

Benedict smiled coldly and turned away from him. "I'm glad you're finally seeing things our way, Agent Mulder." 

And he left Mulder alone in the rain.

*******

end chapter three

*******


	4. A Glimpse of Heaven

*******

A Snatch Of Tiger Lilies 

Chapter Four

*******

"Under a blackened sky, 

far beyond the glaring streetlights,

sleeping on empty dreams, 

the vultures lie in wait.

You lay down beside me then, 

you were with me every waking hour, 

so close I could feel your breath . . . 

You know if I leave you now,

it doesn't mean that I love you any less.

It's just the state I'm in.

I can't be good to anyone else like this. . ."

~Sarah McLachlan, Wait. 

*******

Friday 

September 10, 1998 

Federal Bureau Of Investigation 

4:45 p.m.

*******

Mulder sat silently in Skinner's office as he read over the contents of the letter. The older man's expression was bewildered as he glanced up at the agent in front of him. Mulder sat alone in his office, that in and of itself had worried Skinner. The circles under his eyes that were darker than usual and the fact that Scully had called in sick that day had proven his suspicion that something was wrong. He folded the letter back into three sections and lay it on the desk in front of him, staring at it for long moment as if it could explain it's erroneousness. 

He frowned and glanced up at Mulder. "Agent Mulder, I have to admit that I am at a loss," he met Mulder's dark, tormented eyes searching for an answer, there was none. 

"Two days ago," Skinner continued when Mulder didn't bother to explain the letter. "You and Agent Scully sat in my office overjoyed at the news that you were getting the X-Files back. And now you want a transfer? What caused this dramatic change of mind?" 

Mulder stared down at his hands folded neatly in his lap and sighed, his eyes flickered briefly to the empty chair a foot away from him where his partner usually sat. The knowledge that he would never sit in this office with Scully again, explaining their crazy investigations and getting lectured by Skinner depressed him immensely. 

Mulder shook his head, "Sir you told me yourself once that I was just wasting Agent Scully's and my time working on X-Files. I would think that you would be in favor of this move." 

Skinner narrowed his eyes, did he honestly think he would believe that? "Mulder, don't bother to lie to me. It says on here," he unfolded the paper again and skimmed over it one more time. "That you are requesting transfer because of a 'conflict of personalities between you and Agent Scully.'" Skinner suppressed a snort. A conflict of personalities. . . right. . . these two agents were the most perfectly matched people he knew. 

Mulder shrugged, "Agent Scully and I have had our fair share of conflicts in the past, sir. There isn't an agent in the Bureau that hasn't witnessed an argument between us. It's simply. . . too complicated now. . ." Mulder swallowed hard and gritted his teeth at the lie. 

Skinner crumpled the paper in his hand and glared at Mulder. "Agent Mulder, cut the shit. You and Agent Scully work better than any pair of Agents I have seen in all the years I have been in the FBI. Now stop lying to me and tell me the truth."

Mulder narrowed his eyes to meet Skinner's glare head on. He bit his lip and nodded slightly. "All right Sir, I won't lie to you. . . We discovered yesterday that Agent Scully's cancer has returned. She may not have much time left." 

Skinner winced, that was one thing he had not been expecting. He massaged his temples with his fingertips and nodded, "I see, and you blame yourself for this so you're transferring out of the X-Files?" 

Mulder cocked an eyebrow at Skinner, it seemed Skinner had finally figured him out. "It's a bit more complicated than that, Sir."

Skinner nodded, "It always is with you, Mulder." He shook his head ruefully and leaned back in his chair. "All right, I'll consider it. I'll call you when I've come to a decision."

Mulder nodded silently and left the office. 

Skinner sat for a long moment in silent contemplation, wondering if he would ever figure out Mulder or Scully. He was disturbed from his musings by the audible click of the door as it swung open. He didn't bother to look up, he knew who it was. 

The acrid stench of the cigarette smoke reached his nostrils before anything else and he grimaced at the sickly familiar scent of ash and tobacco. There was a soft exhalation from the man who stood in front of him and smoke swirled in lazy circles around Skinner's desk, drifting away towards the ceiling. 

Skinner sighed and glanced up at Cancerman. "What do you want?" His tone was sharp and gruff, if not a bit angry or bitter. Cancerman had been jerking them all around for years, but the defeated look in Fox Mulder's eyes had enraged Skinner beyond belief. He had only seen that expression on Mulder's face twice before. The first when Scully had been abducted and the second time being when she had been in the hospital, dying of cancer. 

Cancerman lifted the slim cigarette to his lips and drew in gently. "Did he give you his request?"

Skinner glared at the man in fury, "yes," he growled, shoving the crumpled letter towards the older man. "You told me Mulder would be requesting transfer but you never bothered to tell me why."

"Details, Mr. Skinner, minor details." He snuffed out his cigarette in Skinner's ashtray with one hand and reached out with the other to pick up the letter. He skimmed over it with satisfaction, smoothing it out, folding it and placing it inside his jacket pocket. 

"I wasn't aware that you were so concerned for Agent Scully's health," his every word was like a snake hissing in Skinner's ear, lying between snippets of the truth. 

Skinner scowled at the man, "She is one of my best Agents, of course I'm concerned." 

"Relax Skinner, she'll be fine. If Mulder behaves of course," the infuriating calm in his words just angered Skinner even more. 

"If she dies, I will kill you myself." Skinner hissed back, between his teeth. 

Cancerman raised his eyebrows as if the thought amused him, "Really? You know I'm used to such death threats from Mulder, but you Skinner. . . I expected more from you. I mean, the least you could do was shove a gun in my face." He smirked and raised the lighter to his lips to light another cigarette. 

"I'll be sure to inform my colleagues that Agent Mulder is out of the X-Files . . . indefinitely." With that last ominous comment lingering in the like the caustic gray smoke, he turned and left the room.

*******

Friday 

September 10, 1998

X-Files Basement Office

6:15 p.m.

*******

The footsteps resounded in the empty hallway, the distinctive clack of heels against the hard floor was audible in the eerie stillness that resonated in the dim basement office. Scully stopped in front of her office door with a smile. She brushed her fingertips lovingly over the two nameplates on the door. The older, tarnished one that read 'Fox Mulder' and the new brass one underneath that which read 'Dana Scully, MD.' She allowed herself a wistful smile, Mulder had finally gotten her a nameplate, she supposed the crack she had made the other day about shooting him again had scared him more than she thought. A darker thought crossed her mind and her smile vanished. Or perhaps Mulder had gotten her the nameplate because she wouldn't be around for another seven years to earn one. 

Scully shook her head at her own thoughts and steeled herself for whatever was on the other side of the door as she pushed it open. 

What she found inside shocked her more than words. 

Mulder had cleaned the office. 

She grinned again, the first real grin she had cracked ever since she had woken up two nights earlier. She had asked him to clean up the office after he moved all his files in and he had, this constant thoughtfulness was beginning to worry her. 

She chuckled softly and surveyed the office area, she wondered if he had been in at all today, it was way too clean, it didn't look like a single pen had been disturbed. 

She frowned, where was he anyway? She had asked Skinner for the day off, knowing that Mulder, with his crazy working hours, would be there when she decided to come in. And Mulder had told her that he would meet her whenever she came in. He was supposed to be down there struggling to restore old x-files with her. The sharp trilling of the phone seemed to answer her unspoken connection and she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. 

"Scully," she said softly, fully expecting it to be her partner. 

"Agent Scully," she furrowed her eyebrows in surprise as her boss's voice slid over the phone line. 

"Sir? What is it?" They hadn't expected any calls from Skinner for a few days. 

"Agent Scully. . . I saw Agent Mulder about a half hour ago."

Scully smiled, that figured, he was probably searching for some case to take her mind off her cancer. "Really? Well do you know where he went after that? If we have a new case I'd like to be informed." 

There was a slight pause from the other end of the line and Skinner cleared his throat hesitantly. Scully felt all blood drain from her face instantly. Oh no, was something wrong with Mulder? "Sir? What is it? Is Agent Mulder all right?" She asked worriedly. 

Skinner sighed softly, "Yes, he's fine. It's you I'm worried about."

Scully frowned for a moment, then leaned back against her desk, nodding in realization. "He told you about my cancer didn't he?"

"Yes he did. . . but that's not all." 

Scully tilted her head and frowned. "What else is there?" 

"Agent Scully, are you aware that Agent Mulder came to me this morning to request a transfer?"

Scully's eyes narrowed instantly and she could feel her Irish temper flaring up at his words. "He did what?!?" 

"Asked for a transfer from the X-Files. Agent Scully, I know you must be upset right now, but you must realize that with or without you," she could hear the pause as he swallowed hard. "The X-Files need to remain open, and Mulder is the only one who is willing to work on them. Tell me that you'll talk to him." 

Scully's jaw clenched. "Oh, I'll talk to him all right," with that she snapped off her cell phone and left the office, leaving the door banging behind her. 

*******

Friday 

September 10, 1998 

Fox Mulder's Residence

7:12 p.m.

*******

A loud banging on his door brought Mulder instantly out his light doze. He sat up with a start, instantly alert and reaching for his gun. He rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his dark hair, spiking it out in a dozen different directions. He sat up and scratched his chest lazily, the knocking came again. 

"I'm coming," he called softly to the door, the knocking ceased at the sound of his voice and he grabbed a stray tee shirt off his couch. 

He opened the door and winced against the bright hall light that poured into his dim apartment. Standing in the middle of the light was a familiar petite partner of his, red hair gleaming in the bright light. 

"Scully?" He asked, bewildered at why she was showing up at his apartment without any warning, that was usually his role. 

Scully turned on him, blue eyes flashing, she opened her mouth fully prepared to lash out. . . and shut it abruptly. He had no shirt on, she could see his tan skin gleaming something akin to liquid gold in the harsh hall light that bathed him. She swallowed hard and gestured to the tee shirt in his hand. 

"Put that on, Mulder," she ordered as she pushed her way past him into his apartment. He closed the door behind her and frowned as she paced his living room. He followed her cautiously, tugging the shirt over his head. 

"Scully, is something wrong?" He approached her warily, reaching out to touch her arm. She flinched at his touch and shrugged his hand away to resume pacing. 

"Yeah, you know what Mulder, something is wrong. . .." She couldn't believe that he had gone behind her back to try to ruin his life. Hadn't it been just two days ago that he had sworn to never lie to her?

"Scully what is it?" He was alarmed now. "Is it your cancer? Are you feeling okay?" He reached out to touch her again and she could feel herself softening under his concerned gaze. His touch on her arm was electric and she frowned, what was happening to her? This was Mulder, her partner. She could always handle herself around him. 

"No Mulder, it's not my cancer," she sighed and shrugged him off again. "Damn! Would you stop that!" 

"Stop what?"

"Stop," she took his hand and removed it from her arm, "stop touching me and making me feel like that while I'm trying to yell at you!" 

His eyebrows nearly hit the roof, "Feel like what, Scully?"

"And stop acting so damn naive!" She shouted at him. "What are you trying to prove? Walking out on me, leaving me to clean up after you, yet again!"

Mulder had seen his partner angry before, he had seen her this angry that she was ready to shoot whomever her rage was directed at. He had never had the unfortunate opportunity to be on the receiving end of the Irish Scully rage, what had happened to make her so angry at him. . . 

Then he realized. He cursed himself for his stupidity, in his rush to save her life he hadn't expected that she would be angry at him for sacrificing his own work. 

And he had forgotten that it was her work now too. 

He let out a heavy sigh and sank down onto his couch, his face in his hands. "Skinner told you."

"Damn right Skinner told me! What were you thinking Mulder? I mean honestly!" She drew in a deep breath and faced him, meeting his tormented hazel eyes with her own angry blue ones. 

"I'm not important enough to give up your whole life's work for, Mulder. After all you've seen, you can't just walk away because you feel guilty for my death."

"Dammit Scully!" He jumped off the couch and leaned in close to her, invading her space in the maneuver he had perfected over the years. "It's more than that! It's so much more!" 

"Then tell me," she told him, struggling to keep her voice steady and hide the rage and frustration underneath. "Tell me what's going on."

"I can't."

"Mulder, it's me! Your partner. Scully." She emphasized each word, leaning in a little closer and staring up at him until they were a hair's breadth from falling into each other. 

"You told me that I was the only one you could trust. That I made you a whole person. That you couldn't go on without me," Mulder bit his lip and averted his eyes as his words of the moment in the hallway came back to haunt him. 

"So what makes you think I can go on without you?" 

Her voice was choked with emotion, she could feel her fingers trembling and her body tense, ready to snap, explode at any moment. 

He drew in a deep breath and forced his eyes to hers. There was genuine pain there, and something that looked like betrayal. 

She thought he had betrayed her. 

She inhaled sharply and reached up to touch his face, the intensity of the moment lingered over their heads and he shivered from the contact. 

"Mulder, please. . ." 

Their faces were so close, she could feel his breath on her caressing her lips with invisible fingers, stroking and soothing her with invisible currents. 

Abruptly he broke away, "I can't Scully. I can't do this." 

"Why not?" She could hear her voice trembling and she cursed herself for lack of control. "Why are you so afraid of me?" She reached one shaking hand back to feel around in her collar. 

"There are no bees to stop us today, Mulder. No hypothermia induced excuse for forgetting the most memorable day of my life. You weren't afraid of me that day in the hallway, why now? Because you know that I won't leave you this time? Because you have no reason to play on my feelings for you to get me to stay? Because I am the only one who has ever believed in you. And you know that, and you were scared to death of losing me that day in the hallway. So you begged me to stay. And I agreed." Her voice was trembling and she could feel herself once again on the verge of tears. 

His back was still turned to her, but she could see it heaving up and down with shallow breaths. "Tell me I'm wrong, Mulder," she swallowed hard, hating to hear all the doubts and insecurities she had about their relationship come out in the open. 

He whirled around to face her, fixing her eyes with torrid green ones. "I meant everything I said that day. You know that Scully. And yes, I was scared to death of losing you, but only because of how much you mean to me! And that's why I'm leaving now, because if I stay you will die." He whirled back around and opened his door, apparently intending to walk out of his own apartment. 

"Mulder I am going to die anyway." Her calm statement sent chills down his spine and an arrow through his heart. She had accepted her fate, but he had not. 

"Not if I can help it." 

She stared at his back for a long moment as he disappeared out the door, torn between going after him or slumping onto his familiar leather couch and sleeping forever. 

Naturally she chose the former. 

She stormed out the door and into the hall after him. "Don't you dare turn your back on us and walk away from me, Fox Mulder," her words halted him in his tracks and she could see him heave a deep sigh. 

"And what will you do if I do turn around and walk away?" His tone was weary and pained, but there was a real note of curiosity in there. He was wondering if she would follow him. 

Scully gritted her teeth, she knew she would probably follow him, but that wouldn't keep him there long enough to open up to her. She swallowed hard and nodded, as if accepting her own decision. 

"Then I am turning around. And I am walking away from you for the last time. . . and this time, Mulder. I'm not coming back."

Every cell in his body, every muscle of his brain screamed at him to keep moving, to leave her behind. Everything was trying to tell him that it would be best for her if she never saw him again. But his heart, that was a different story. His heart reminded him of all those years loving her in secret, not able to ever express his feelings. His heart reminded him of her words, nobody else in the world did understand him. His heart reminded him that he should at least tell her how much he loved her before he went. His heart reminded him that he would never be complete without his soulmate, without her.

Slowly, he turned around to face her. "What do you want from me, Scully?" His voice was broken, husky from unshed tears.

"The truth, the only thing you have ever wanted, Mulder. That's what I want from you now." 

He nodded in defeat, hanging his head. "A man named Benedict approached me that night at the hospital, he told me that he had a cure for your cancer. A genuine cure, Scully. But there was a catch. . ."

She nodded in understanding, a small epiphany occurring to her. "You had to leave the X-Files." He had given up the X-Files for her. Diana had asked him years earlier to give up his life's work for her and he hadn't done it. But he had done it for her, a woman he had never even kissed, without a second thought. 

"Yes, I had to leave the X-Files. That was the easy part, but then there was you. . . I was told I could never see you again," he reached out to stroke her face. "The thought killed me. I would never be able to argue with you over meaningless things. Never be able to touch you." He let his hand slide down her cheek and she gripped it gently in her smaller one, he could feel wetness on her face and wondered when she had started crying. 

"But then I realized that if I didn't leave you. If I didn't do what they told me. . . then no one would ever be able to touch you, or argue with you over meaningless things ever again. And I figured I couldn't deprive the world of that."

Scully whimpered softly. "Mulder, you don't understand. I don't want to do those things with anyone else. . . I don't want to live without you." She gripped his large dark hand in her small pale one and kissed the palm gently. 

"Mulder, I would rather die, knowing that you loved me, knowing that I could spend the last moments of my life, loving you, than in a cold hospital room, alone, or at home where nobody would know." 

His eyes burned fiercely and he could feel the first tears slipping out, trailing down to drip onto her face as he leaned down to her. "I do love you, Scully. I have been in love with you for a long time."

"Mulder. . .." She choked back a strangled sob and realized dimly that they were again standing in his hallway, in the same spot they had been that fateful day when the bee had stung her. Only their positions were reversed, in more ways than one. 

And as his lips descended on hers, she realized that she was finally going to get that elusive hallway kiss. . .

Their lips met, hesitant at first, but then more insistent. Their tongues tangled in a frenzy of passion and combined tenderness as a tumultuous heat grew between them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to him, as if she could fall into him and they could become one. 

Slowly they pulled apart, breathing heavily as they leaned against each other. 

She met his eyes and smiled softly. "You interrupted me, I was just about to tell you about how in love with you I am, how I always have been."

He met her smile with a gentle grin, "I think that was lost somewhere in this. . .." He pulled her back to him for another kiss, sweet and delicate, lasting only a few seconds before he pulled away. The two of them stood together, foreheads resting against each other as they stood, pressed together as if they could never be torn apart. 

"I don't want to leave you," he whispered softly. She smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. "I don't think you have to, it's your apartment remember? I think you forgot about that while you were busy walking out on me earlier."

Mulder shook his head softly, "I don't mean tonight, I mean ever. I love you too much." 

"Then stay with me," she whispered. "Forever."

He shut his eyes, pressing his lips to the skin of her forehead in a chaste kiss. They stood that way for another moment, before he slowly detached himself from her, to grip her hand and walk back into his apartment. 

There was no discussion, just the simple understanding between the two of them. They had talked enough over the space of six years that no words were needed at that moment. 

They fell into the bed in a frenzy of tangled limbs, gentle caresses and whispered vows of love. There were no complications that night, no cancer, no death hanging over their heads, no secret consortium plots or plans to destroy what they had struggled so long to keep alive.

No, it was just them for once, in their own haven, where they could be safe to love and be loved. Neither knew what the morning would bring, but they knew that together they would survive it. 

*******

end chapter four

*******


	5. Between Darkness and Light

*******

A Snatch Of Tiger Lilies

Chapter Five

*******

This next chapter (and the song ) is for my sister Alaina who refused to just accept things as they were and convinced me I needed this upcoming scene (and the song ). g

*******

"We walk the narrow path

beneath the smoking skies

sometimes I can barely tell 

the difference between darkness and light.

Do you have faith in what we believe? 

The truest test is the one we cannot see. . .

When I'm lonely.

I lie awake at night,

and I wish you were here. . .

Can you tell me, 

is there something more to believe in

or is this all there is?

It can't rain all the time.

The sky won't fall forever.

And though the night seems long.

Your tears won't fall,

your tears won't fall forever. 

~It Won't Rain All The Time, From the Crow Soundtrack

(I think that was the longest song quote yet!)

*******

Chapter Five 

*******

Saturday

September 11, 1998

9:34 a.m. 

*******

Benedict leaned heavily against the wall and sighed, his fingers itched for an elusive cigarette, but he had given up smoking a long time ago, no sense in starting again now. 

He ran his fingers through his raven feather hair and leaned his head against the cool stone behind him. He gripped a cell phone in one hand, his tapered fingertips tracing lazy circles on the dark, plastic casing. 

He blinked once and counted to five, then the phone rang, right on time. 

"Benedict," his normally smooth, cultured tone took on a rough edge as he snapped at whoever was on the other end. 

"Is she with him?" The throaty feminine voice slid across the phone lines to reach his ears and he winced involuntarily at her tone. He had met a lot of slimy, evil people in his life, and this woman was high on that list. 

"Yes," he hissed through clenched teeth. 

"Good, then I suppose it's time."

"It has been time," he shut his eyes and leaned back against the wall again, snapping the phone off. 

"It has been time for far too long. . ."

*******

The first thing that she noticed as she swam slowly to consciousness, was the silence. 

Scully stretched her eyes open and squinted at the golden light pouring in through the window. But it wasn't her window. . . in fact it looked an awful lot like the window in her partner's bedroom.

She closed her eyes again and felt a peaceful smile grace her face, as if her body knew some joyous secret she had forgotten while sleeping. 

Her next coherent thought was, who is breathing on me?

She opened her eyes and smiled again, broader this time as she realized it was Mulder whose arms were wrapped around her so tightly. Mulder, who had been prepared to walk away from her the night before and had ended up professing his love for her instead.

She traced lazy patterns up and down the arm that circled her waist and rolled over softly, still caught in his embrace, to snuggle her head against his chest. One large hand rose to stroke her tangle of titian locks gently and she sighed against his skin. 

"Good morning," came his soft, gruff voice from somewhere above her. She chuckled as she felt the sentiment rumble in his chest against her head. 

"Morning," she replied, lightly kissing the skin on his chest. He groaned slightly and pulled her up to him to kiss her tenderly. 

"I could get used to this being my wake up call," he whispered against her lips. She grinned again and pulled away slightly to kiss his forehead. 

"I love you," she whispered against his warm skin. His hands slid up her stomach, around her back to pull her closer to him. 

"I love you too," the words echoed in the quiet room, still subtly uneasy, after years of feeling what they did it was still hard for them to believe they could say it without fear. After a long moment she leaned up to kiss him again, and pulled away gently. 

"I'm going to make some breakfast," she told him as she eased out of the bed. She wasn't sure whether or not he was listening to her anymore, she could feel the heat of his gaze on her bare body. She glanced back at him and snatched the first thing she could find off the floor, his tee shirt, she tugged it on 

over her head and shook her head slightly. 

"There will be time for that later, Agent Mulder. First you are going to eat something," she leaned over and poked a finger in his chest teasingly. "I can't have you getting scrawny again on me, now can I? Go back to bed, I'll call you when it's ready." 

Mulder seemed about to protest, and she arched one eyebrow at him. Sighing in mock defeat he closed his eyes and pouted slightly. Scully chuckled softly at him, watching for a long moment as he slid back into the dreamworld. She pulled on her pants and crossed over to the bed, kneeling in front of him for a long moment. He really was beautiful, she had always known that. But somehow, as he was lying here in a rumpled bed. Dark hair spiked out to every which way and eyelashes the color of coal dusting his cheeks softly, he was the most beautiful she had ever seen him. There was this expression on his face of perpetual peace and love that she had never seen in him before. It settled in across his features as bright as the golden glow of the early morning sunrays that seeped through the windowpane. Scully reached out to stroke his 

face gently with the back of her hand. 

His words of the night before came back to mind 'I had to leave the X-Files. That was the easy part, but then there was you. . . I was told I could never see you again. The thought killed me. I would never be able to argue with you over meaningless things. Never be able to touch you. But then I realized that if I didn't leave you. If I didn't do what they told me. . . then no one would ever be able to touch you, or argue with you over meaningless things ever again. And I figured I couldn't deprive the world of that.'She could feel her heart swelling with love for the man in front of her. All that he had done to save her. . . he had given up his life's work, had given up her to save her. She knew that normally she would probably be angry at him for making these decisions without even telling her. But at the moment she could do nothing but love him. 

She ran her fingers gently through his tousled hair and smiled ruefully, pulling away and leaving the bedroom silently. She stopped just a few feet short of his kitchen, crossing over instead to the window in his living room. She stood in front of it for a long moment, her slender fingers delicately tracing the sticky remnants of the X that had been taped up time and again in earlier years. She stared out the window at the street. She watched idly as the bright rays of sun danced across the remaining droplets of rain scattered upon the dry earth outside, creating dozens of rainbows arching across the air towards her. A brief smile passed over Scully's lips as she realized that it had finally stopped raining, and it truly was a beautiful day outside. 

"It can't rain all the time," she whispered softly to the window pane, watching her breath create a small cloud of steam on the glass and slowly dissipate. 

She wrapped her slender arms around her waist and leaned her head against the pane, allowing the fresh sunlight to gleam on her red gold locks that fell around her face in lazy curls. 

A knock on the door startled her from her musings as she glanced up with a frown. She shot a glance towards the bedroom where Mulder was still sleeping. The knocks came again, louder and more insistent this time, Scully glanced down at her outfit and sighed, moving towards the door. Her hand rested on the doorknob and she hesitated. This wouldn't be the first time somebody attacked her from behind a closed door. She glanced around and spotted her partner's sig lying on the table, quickly she picked it up and pocketed it, then turned back to the door and peered through the peephole.

She couldn't see anything but the bright hallway outside, Scully frowned and shook her head slightly, gripping the gun tighter, and opened the door slowly. 

The brightness of the hallway pervaded the dimly lit apartment with a harsh glow, Scully squinted slightly and then raised an eyebrow and brought her gun up to level with the other person's head. 

"Diana Fowley, why is it that you just don't seem to die when you are supposed to?"

Diana raised one eyebrow to match Scully's expression. "Surprised to see me, Agent Scully?" She disregarded the cold metal of Scully's gun grazing her temple and pushed her way past the other agent. "Where's Fox?" She demanded, glancing around the room with impudence. 

Scully gritted her teeth as she lowered the gun and shook her head. "He's sleeping, Diana, so you might as well come back later."

Diana turned on one five inch heel and smirked coldly at Scully. "I'm afraid my business with Fox is rather pressing," her voice dropped to a low husky tone and Scully recoiled inwardly with disgust. Did the woman have no shame?

"Well I'm sorry, Diana," Scully struggled to keep her tone neutral and polite. "But I'm not going to wake him up just for you. He is in desperate need of a good night's sleep." Scully bit off her last words with regret as Diana's gaze fell to her appearance. 

One slender eyebrow rose and Diana nodded, "I see, so how long have the two of you been fucking? I should have suspected it right away." 

Scully's jaw dropped in indignation and her eyebrows shot up, her grip on the gun tightened and her other hand formed a tight fist which rose to punch the other woman hard in the jaw. There was a resounding crack as Scully's fist connected with the other woman's jawbone and she stepped back, quite pleased with herself. 

Diana blinked once and stumbled backwards a few steps, her icy exterior cracked as a heated anger rose in her. She clutched her jaw where Scully had hit it, wondering how such a small woman could be so powerful. 

"Afraid to hear the truth Agent Scully? He doesn't care about you, he's still in love with me," she swallowed hard, mustering back up that fake confidence, the trepidation in her voice betraying her calm expression as she smirked shakily. "And you know it." 

Scully glared at the other woman and swallowed hard. "Fuck you, Diana. You know nothing about Mulder or me," the hand holding the gun came up and Scully rested the muzzle of the gun on her temple again. "Now I suggest you leave before you wake Mulder up."

"Too late," came a raspy tired voice from behind the two of them. Scully turned her head and saw Mulder standing in the doorway, fully dressed. "What are you doing here, Diana? You're supposed to be dead." He took a step towards Scully, instinctive protectiveness coming into play. She glanced at him and he stopped dead in his tracks, glancing back at Diana expectantly. 

"The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated." The woman replied in the same husky tone she thrown at Scully a few moments ago. She smoothed the silk of her thin, cream colored blouse over her breasts slowly, smoothing out an invisible wrinkle. Scully scowled and rolled her eyes in aversion. Mulder's head cocked and Scully could see the muscles in his jaw tightening. His eyes flicked to Scully's and she was relieved to see a look of reassurance there. Mulder didn't trust Diana, only her. 

"Who sent you, Diana?" He demanded, stepping towards the two of them, gesturing at Scully to put the gun down. Scully shook her head and stepped away, glaring at Diana in disgust, keeping the gun clenched tightly in one hand. 

"I need your help, Fox." 

Mulder snorted, "Sure you do, Diana you never needed my help for anything in your life. What do you want from me now?" 

"They are after me, Cancerman and his consortium. They know I was helping you with the Gibson Praise case and they want to kill me." The desperation in her eyes would have fooled him a few months earlier, but he could see her as she truly was now. The Diana he used to know was gone, this conniving, manipulating cold-hearted bitch in her place. 

But then again, maybe this was how Diana had always been. He had just been too blind and lonely to see it. Scully watched Mulder hesitantly as he narrowed his eyes, the expression in those hazel pools was thoughtful, while his face remained blank. She could feel her heart constrict in fear, he didn't believe her did he? She took a deep breath and stepped closer to him, reassuring him with her presence. 

Mulder frowned slightly as Scully stepped closer to him, why was she moving away from Diana when she could be armed. . . then he realized. He almost laughed and cried at the idea at the same time. Scully was afraid that he would go back to Diana. The thought amused him and sobered him at once. He shook his head and cleared his throat. 

"Nice try Diana. Get out." Scully could see Diana tense and she nearly smiled. This was obviously not going how she planned. 

"Fine, I'll leave. But you both will die here, you know that right?" She glanced from Mulder to Scully. She sneered at Scully, "He'll tire with you soon, you're a dying woman. Who would want a dying woman? Especially you?" 

"That's enough, Diana!" Mulder shouted as he crossed the room to position himself in front of Scully protectively, glaring at the woman furiously.

"You waltz back into my life after six years without a word. Don't you dare to presume what my life is like now!" Mulder's eyes narrowed and Diana blanched at the anger in his quiet tone. 

"You come to me, expecting me to drop everything to help you, well I'm sorry Diana, but there is only one person I do that for, and you should never have insulted her."Scully's eyes widened at his words, and she glanced at Diana, whose face was getting white. 

"I don't love you, Diana, I don't think I ever did. You have no right talking to the woman I do love, the way you have today." He stepped closer to her, invading her personal space rudely, unlike the comfortable way he did with Scully. His eyes flashed a violent shade of blue, springing out of the browns and greens and his voice lowered to a deadly whisper. 

"And if she does die, and I find out that you helped them kill her, I will kill you myself, don't doubt that." He glared furiously at her and stepped back, aligning himself side by side with Scully.

"Now, get the fuck out of my house and don't come back." 

Diana gaped at the two of them for a moment, apart the two of them were powerful individuals. But together, it seemed they were immutable. Diana swallowed hard, mustering up what remained of her pride. 

"Fine. But I'll be back," her eyes flicked to Scully's cold gaze. "Trust me." 

She spun shakily on her heel, wobbling slightly as she strode angrily out the doorway, leaving both Mulder and Scully staring after her in disgust. The door slammed shut behind her, and the two of them stood for a long moment in silence.

Scully glanced up at her partner, Mulder was still staring at the doorway, a thoughtful and weary expression on his face. She turned back to the window, gazing out of it, she could see Diana walking briskly from the building to her car. There was a dark figure leaning on the hood of one of the cars. . . Scully frowned and drew the curtain aside. 

"Hell of a wake up call huh?" Scully asked softly, still peering out the window at Diana as she gestured angrily at the shadowed man by her car. 

Mulder came up from behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, allowing his hands to fall and rest gently on the curve of her stomach. "Yeah, last I heard you were making me breakfast, then I hear voices and when I come out to investigate I see you punching my ex pretty damn hard." 

Scully flinched slightly at the word 'ex.' She still had trouble picturing her partner with that foul woman. "Yeah, well she deserved it." Scully stiffened in his arms and shook her head, recalling Diana's harsh words. "You should have heard what she said, Mulder, I'm sorry, I just cannot stand that woman!"

"Shh, shh, it's okay Scully," he leaned his head into the curve of her neck and planted a kiss on the soft skin he found there. "Diana doesn't know the first thing about us, she has never had love like this." He trailed one hand across her clavicle and down her arm, tracing torpid designs of love on the swirl of auburn hair that lay scattered down her arm. She relaxed against him reluctantly, releasing all of her anger in a deep sigh as she closed her eyes and leaned into Mulder's tender embrace. 

"You can't let her get to you, Scully. She was wrong, wrong about you, wrong about us." He lifted the other hand from where it still rested on her abdomen and trailed it up the slender curves of her figure to her face, to tilt her eyes to his. 

"I love you, don't ever doubt that," his irises shifted to a deep emerald green, and he leaned his forehead gently against her own. 

"I know, Mulder. . . I don't doubt it. . . but she is right you know." Scully closed her eyes against his startled gaze and shook her head slightly. 

"I am dying, we both know that. Even Diana knows that, and we can't stop it now." She could see Mulder bite his lip and shake his head as if to protest. 

"No, Mulder. I won't let you sacrifice yourself and me, even if it is to save me." He shut his eyes in defeat and she could feel his wearied breaths against her skin, warming her soul in places she hadn't even been aware were numb. 

"Scully, I don't want to lose you either way," his voice was broken and she could feel the weight of the world, so recently lifted from his heart pulling the both of them down again. 

"You could never lose me, Mulder. Even if I die, you know that I'll always be with you." She winced at the sappiness of her words, but it was all she could think of to say. Dana Scully had never feared death, she feared it now. She feared leaving this man behind, alone. 

He sighed again and moved his arms to her shoulders to pull him gently to her, her arms went around him automatically and he gripped her tightly in his gentle embrace. She closed her eyes and leaned her head quietly on his chest, wishing that she could stay like this forever. 

"I love you, Mulder. Don't ever doubt that." 

He kissed the top of her head softly and rested his chin on her forehead, gazing idly out the window down at the street below. He could see Diana leaning against her car and he scowled, what was she still doing there? He saw a figure move beside her, shadows shifting around him in a familiar, fluid movement and Mulder instantly stiffened. 

Scully lifted her head, puzzled, and felt the blood rush out of her own cheeks at the expression of panic on her partner's face. "Mulder? What is it? What's wrong?" She twisted in his arms to look out the window. She squinted her eyes to peer out through the sunlight, to the shadowed bower where Diana stood, apparently speaking angrily with a tall dark haired man. 

"Who is that?" 

Mulder set his jaw and swallowed hard. "Benedict." 

Scully frowned and then glanced up at Mulder in alarm. "Your informant?" The firm line in his jaw gave her his answer. "Why would he be here? Why would he be meeting with Diana?"

"I don't know," Mulder stepped away from her and towards the door. "But I've got to talk to him." 

Scully frowned, "Why?" Mulder stopped in his tracks. His head dropped and Scully could feel her heart sinking in her chest. 

"Because if Diana tells him that you're up here with me then he. . ."

"Won't give you my cure?" Scully raised an eyebrow and sighed. "Mulder, are you still trying to cure me?"

He turned on her, hazel eyes flashing from green to brown violently. "It's kind of hard for me to just sit back and watch you die, Scully, I have to at least try."

Scully threw her hands up in exasperation and spun on one heel, hands coming down to rest on hips. She cocked her head in annoyance as she looked up to meet his liquid dark eyes in full fledged nit-picking pose. He almost laughed at the familiar stance, how many times had they stood in their office like this, her glaring up at him as he tried to convince her of some crazy theory? The fact that they stood like this now, with her wearing his gray tee shirt and jeans, hair still tousled from sleep and cheeks flushed from their previous night's activities, was astounding to Mulder. 

"Mulder," she paused and ran her fingers through her rumpled titian locks, thinking hard for a long moment. "Mulder, there are other treatments . . . Whose to say that this cure he is promising you wouldn't make me worse? Or that I would die anyway, but simply without you? I don't want that. I only want you." She swallowed hard and shook her head firmly. 

"I thought we established all of this last night," she reached out to grip his hand gently. "I could die tonight," he winced visibly at her words and tried to pull away, but she held on with a firm grip. "Mulder, I could die tonight, but it will have been worth it, if I could spend this moment loving you." She lifted his hand and examined it almost shyly, memorizing the lines and texture of it. She pulled it to her lips and kissed his fingertips lightly. 

"I don't want to live without you, please, Mulder, let's find another way." She glanced back up to meet his pain filled eyes. "Please Mulder, I need you to trust me." 

He nodded slightly, biting his lip and sighing heavily. He turned away from the door reluctantly and reached out to grip her other hand in his own. He stared down at their clasped hands, marveling at the smallness of her palm. "In the end it comes down to a matter of trust, I suppose it always has." 

She smiled slightly and reached up to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Thank you, Mulder. . . now, how about that breakfast I promised you?" 

He grinned back, the genuine warmth in her eyes giving him a small measure of hope, he hadn't realized that the fire had been gone from her icy blue eyes until it had returned. "Are you telling me that you are actually going to cook, Scully? I don't think I have seen you cook in the six years I have known you." 

"Well there is a first time for everything," she slipped out of his arms and moved towards the kitchen with a fluid, catlike grace that came so naturally to her. He watched her for a long moment, feeling intertwined strands of delight and sorrow pierce his heart. She seemed so happy with him, she was content doing nothing more than just eating breakfast together. . . Still musing over this, he followed her into the kitchen. 

Scully stopped inside the entrance to the kitchen and glanced around, lip curling in disgust. "Mulder, don't you ever clean?" She swiped at one counter angrily, wiping away a thin layer of dust and grime on her fingertips. She glanced down at her hand and shook her head slightly, shaking away the sudden dizzy spell that overcame her. 

"Hey, it's not that bad." Mulder interjected. Scully lifted her head at the sound of his voice and shook her head again, smiling slightly. She could feel him approach her from behind, his fingers trailed across the small of her back as he passed by her. She smiled wistfully at the familiar gesture and moved to sit at the kitchen table. 

He paused as she sat down heavily in the chair, frowning slightly at her sigh. "Scully, are you okay?" He moved behind her, resting his hand lightly on her neck, stroking the tense muscles he found. 

She relaxed at his touch and shook her head. "Just tired is all." 

He nodded and bent his head to sprinkle light kisses on her neck and head, grinning slightly at her agreeing murmurs. "I'm sorry about Diana, Scully," he whispered softly into her ear, planting a small kiss on her earlobe as he passed by. 

She let out another sigh and shook her head slightly, "Don't apologize for her, Mulder. It's all right." 

Mulder shook his head and snaked one arm around her chest, pulling her to him gently. "I love you," he whispered in her other ear. She grinned and leaned back against him, letting her eyes drift shut and she lowered her head to kiss him lightly on the arm that held her to him. 

"Mulder, I . . .." She trailed off as the arm around her tightened and her eyes opened to glance up at him. 

"What is it?" She asked, eyes darkening in concern. He drew away slightly and held his arm out to her, there was blood on it.

Her eyelids fell shut again and she sighed heavily, lifting her fingers to dab at the blood that trickled slowly out of her nose. 

She stood, her legs instantly buckling from under her. Mulder grabbed her arm instantly, pulling her limp body to him. Scully felt her breath quicken and she swallowed hard, this could not be good. 

Mulder gripped her to him tightly, "Scully?" His voice was small, hesitant as the memory of a moment just like this came back to mind. She had gone limp in his arms then after a bee sting. 

But now it was something far worse.

"Mulder," she let out a long breath and shook her head, her eyes were becoming glassy. "Mulder, I think. . .." She gasped for breath. 

"I think you should call an ambulance." She drew in a sharp breath and gripped his flesh frantically, whispering hoarsely. "Don't go after him, Mulder. Stay with me." 

And then she slipped into oblivion. 

*******

end chapter five

*******


	6. A Blackened Sky

*******

A Snatch Of Tiger Lilies

Chapter Six

*******

"Will you fight for the cause? . . .

And if, you said, I would go to heaven

Now maybe I'll try. . .

Heretics and hypocrites 

wear the same face throughout the years

of telling lies 

and laying blame

damn the fire 

to feed the flame.

Don't dance, or sing, or try to think

Their image is planted in your head."

~Better Than Ezra, Heaven 

*******

D.C. Hospital 

Saturday

September 11, 1998

10:45 a.m.

*******

Mulder paced the cold hallway outside of his partner's hospital room anxiously. His head bent low, dark locks of hair strewn about the skin of his forehead in a jumbled pattern. His hands were shoved into his pockets and he lifted his head only when he passed by the small window set high in the hospital door. 

As he passed by once more he lifted his head and stopped and glanced inside the room once more. He could see Scully lying cold and still on the hospital bed inside, Margaret Scully was sitting in a chair beside the bed, clutching Scully's hand. A small man stood behind her in a crisp white lab coat, Mulder vaguely recognized the man as the doctor who had brought Scully her x-rays the day before. The doctor stood behind her, his arms folded loosely over his chest as he delivered the somber news to Mrs. Scully that her daughter was dying. 

Mulder gripped the doorframe with one hand, leaning heavily against it. It seemed the stress of the past few days was finally catching up with him, all he wanted to do now was lay down with Scully and sleep. Forget the Consortium and promises of things he could not accept, not even to save the life of a woman he cared for more than his own life. 

Forget about the fact that she was moments from death and he couldn't do a thing about it. He shut his eyes and moved away from the doorway to slump into the bench pushed up against the opposite wall. He lowered his head into his hands and sighed heavily. She didn't deserve this, she had never done anything to deserve this kind of pain. This was all his fault.

All his fault, the knowledge came crashing down on him in waves of despair and guilt. They were doing this to stop him, Benedict had told him that. Benedict. . . Scully had told him that there was no way she would let him make a deal with Benedict and leave her. 

The image of her lying on the bed across the hall from him returned to his mind and he shook his head miserably. How could he sit there and watch her die? 

His self loathing thoughts were interrupted by a soft touch on his shoulder. The gesture was so familiar that he thought for a moment that it was Scully, telling him that she was okay. 

Then he glanced up into the despondent dark eyes of Margaret Scully and blew out an exhausted breath. She swallowed hard at his expression, she knew whom he had been expecting. The elder Scully sat down beside him and gripped his hand gently. 

"You can't blame yourself, Fox. So stop."

Mulder grimaced and glanced over at her, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. He could feel tears stinging the back of his eyes and he blinked them away rapidly. 

"It's hard not to," his voice was a low rasp and he moved his gaze from her sad brown eyes to their clasped hands. 

"Dana doesn't blame you," her voice was gentle and he nearly smiled as he recognized the same soothing tones that distinguished his partner's tone in her mother's voice. 

"Dana loves you, Fox," she cocked an eyebrow at him and squeezed his hand. "You know that right?" 

He cleared his throat gruffly and allowed a wistful smile to pass over his features. "I know." Margaret Scully studied the young man her daughter had worked with for six years silently. The sadness in his eyes that always seemed to cling to him, was so much brighter when her daughter was suffering. But when he spoke of Dana, his voice seemed to hold this tone of reverence. Margaret had heard it the first time she had met him, four years earlier when he had arrived at her daughter's apartment after Dana had been abducted by a madman. 

She had seen the great love this man held for her daughter then, it seemed that everytime she saw the two of them together it was during a crisis, yet together they held strong. 

She nodded slightly and squeezed his hand once more. "Um, the doctor," she cleared her throat. "The doctor said that she is in a coma. He doesn't think she will ever come out."

Mulder's face crumpled, the wall he had built around his soul to prepare for this collapsed at his feet at the older woman's words. He dropped his head into his hands and shook his head, he bit his lip hard to keep from crying, but the tears spilled anyway. 

"It's too soon," he whispered in a gruff, shaking voice. "We were supposed to have more time. We were supposed to be able to be together. . . It's too soon. . ." 

Margaret drew in a ragged breath and rested her hand on his back gently. "I know," her voice cracked slightly. "She's my last daughter. . . no mother should ever have to outlive her children." 

They sat there in a quiet mourning for a long moment, each awash in their own grief for the woman lying dying in the room a few feet away from them. 

Mulder glanced up at her again, "Can I see her?" 

Margaret nodded slightly and scrubbed at her face with the palms of her hands. "Yeah, go on." 

The room was dim as Mulder stepped into it, the only source of light was the golden rays of sunlight slanting into the room from the small window over Scully's bed. The beams of light danced about her head, lighting her hair with golden highlights and illuminating her skin with an almost unearthly glow. Mulder stopped for a moment, his breath catching in his chest at the sight of her lying on the bed. From where he stood she looked like an angel with her wings cut off. 

He drew closer to the bed, reaching out to caress her cheek gently. He sat down in the chair Mrs. Scully had vacated moments earlier. He slid his hand down her arm to grip her hand gently. He clutched her small hand in his own and examined it gently, tracing her delicate bones with one finger. He brought the hand up to his lips to kiss it gently. 

He lifted his eyes from her hand to her face, watching her for a moment, just content with the rise and fall of her chest that verified to him that she was still alive. 

"Scully," his voice came out in a broken whisper, surprising him with the desperation he could hear there. 

"Your mom told me that the doctor. . .." He drew in a breath "The doctor said that you might not wake up. . ." he laced his fingers through her own and bit his lip. "I . . . I can't believe that. Scully. . ." he shut his eyes, her words from a year earlier coming back to him. 

"Scully, I can go to Benedict. I can save you. . . If I can save you, let me. . ." he leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips. For a breathless moment, he expected her to open her eyes and smile at him, as if in some fairy tale. 

But Scully didn't even stir and he sat back into his chair, still gripping her hand. "But for now, Scully. I am here with you. . . I love you." 

Still clasping her hand, he slumped into his chair and just watched her breathe.

*******

Benedict leaned back in his chair and gazed for a long moment at the scene playing out on the screen in front of him. His lips twisted into a cruel grimace, how sweet the two of them were, how in love. A brief emotion played across his sharp features, softening his steely eyes for just a moment. He had known love like that once. . . He swallowed hard and frowned, chasing away his nagging thoughts of a time long gone. 

He stared intently at the screen, as if the woman lying cold on the hospital bed would transform and become her. As if the man gripping her hand was him in mourning. 

In another time, it had been him, clutching the hand of the woman he loved on her deathbed. She had lain dying from a disease they had given her also, she had been given no cure. 

Benedict furrowed his slender eyebrows and ran his fingertips along the smooth curve of the tube inside his coat jacket. 

Things could be different this time around. 

This time, she could live. . . and he could save her. . . 

He could. . . 

*******

Dana Scully's Residence

7:32 p.m. 

*******

Mulder stood outside the doorway to Scully's apartment for a long moment, staring at the numbers on the door. His fingers played lightly over the lettering on the key he held in his hand. 'Scully' it read, they had exchanged keys years earlier after one too many mutants or psychos had attacked his partner . . . Mulder flinched at the memory of arriving to Scully's apartment four years earlier to be greeted by a hysterical Margaret Scully and broken glass. And blood. . . there had been so much blood. . . 

He slid the key in the lock and pushed the door open slowly, wondering again why he was there. Mrs. Scully had sent him home to get changed and to sleep a little after sitting with Scully all day at the hospital, but he had just started driving and he had ended up here. 

The warmth of Scully's home enveloped him. Her familiar smells of vanilla and something distinctly spicy and warm filling him and making him feel right at home for a brief moment, until he realized that Scully was not there. 

Nothing was home if she was not there with him. . . 

Gazing sadly around the empty apartment Mulder realized that he might never come home again. It was quite likely that he would never stand in this apartment greeted by Scully and little red headed hazel eyed children. . . 

Mulder blinked abruptly and watched the vision fade before his eyes as quickly as it had appeared. Children? Where had that come from? Scully couldn't have children. . . and he couldn't have Scully. . . it was something that was slowly seeping into his brain as the inevitable despair set in. He moved across the apartment silently, maintaining a quiet air of reverence for this place that would never be filled with life again. He stopped at her bedroom, peering inside cautiously, half expecting her to be inside smirking at him over some outrageous theory. But the bedroom was as still and as empty as the rest of the apartment. The bedcovers were perfectly smoothed and tucked at the corners, the bathroom door hung slightly ajar, but the room was quiet. There wasn't a single drop of blood to betray the events that had occurred on that fateful night only two days earlier. There wasn't a single drop of red to show that a dying woman had lived 

in this house only yesterday. 

The only evidence that anyone had been there at all, was the slim book lying the table next to the bed. Mulder sat down on the bed gently, and ran his fingers along the plain cover lightly. He recognized the book right away, it was her journal, the journal she had written in the last time she had been in the hospital with cancer. 

The journal she had written to him in. . . 

He knew that he shouldn't open it, he would be betraying her trust. . . but something inside him niggled at him to open it. . . 

He bit his lip and opened the journal, recognizing his partner's neat, flowing script immediately. He stopped at a particular date, only a few weeks earlier. He furrowed his eyebrows and paused to read what she had written. 

'Salt Lake City. . . The words were my judgement. I turned in my letter of resignation to Skinner just an hour ago, stopped home to change clothes and continue my internal debate on how to tell him. Well the debate continues and I forgot to change, damn. . . he's expecting a call from me, I know he is. But how am I supposed to tell him? He should be happy, honestly. All I have ever done is doubt him, he should be glad to be rid of me. . . but still. . .. Somehow I just know he won't let me go so easily. . . that's my Mulder, not one to give up without a fight. . .. I'm going to see him now, I hope he can understand. . .'Mulder's eyes burned at the words, she had been giving up her career and yet she had only been concerned about him. He remembered the anger he had felt when she had pushed open his door with defeat and announced that she was leaving. And the cold, desperate fear that had quickly followed. She had been right, he was not one to give up without a fight, especially when it concerned her. Mulder pushed aside his 

thoughts and flipped ahead a few pages until he found the date of September 8. 

'Good news on the heels of our discovery. The X-Files have been reopened, we can go back to work finally, back to where we belong. I could see the happiness in Mulder's eyes when we sat in an office that contained just the two of us and a bunch of filing cabinets again. Just the two of us tossing around crazy theories and conversations no one else would understand but us. This is where he belongs, this where we belong. Things actually felt normal today, close to joyous. After the incident in Mulder's hallway a few weeks ago I was afraid things would be odd. . . but it's not. . . we seem closer than ever. That near kiss seemed destined to happen, but I still curse the bee that interrupted the moment. Mulder and I are still going strong. . .. Maybe someday I'll get that hallway kiss, but until then we are where we belong. That's all that is important. . .' 

Mulder felt a wistful smile to pass over his lips. He had been happy that day, just to sit with her in their office and be back where they belonged. She really did know him too well . . . Nobody else knew how important the work was to him. . . 

But she didn't seem to know how important she was also. 

The next entry he saw was dated only the day before. 

'My cancer is back. 

Four little words that tore both Mulder and me apart. 

I awoke covered in blood. . . stumbled into the shower and the next thing I knew, Mulder was there, shaking me back to life with gentle hands and frightened eyes. I still don't know what possessed him to drive to my house at two in the morning. I told my mother that he always just seemed to know when I am in pain, but this was uncanny. He arrived in under a half an hour of my discovery and I don't remember calling him. . .. I have yet to ask him why he was there, but maybe it is better that I don't know. I don't think I can handle many more surprises right now. . . 

We were at the hospital within twenty minutes, probably waking up every doctor on staff thanks to my concerned partner. And by dawn I had the dreadful news. 

My cancer is indeed back. It all seems to be some sort of slow moving dream state right now. Mulder drove me home and the look in his eyes scared me. He looked like he was slowly dying inside, while I got the break and got to die quickly. I swore I would tell him, I swore then that I had to tell him how much he means to me before I die. . . he has to know. . . 

I love you Mulder. . .'

Mulder felt his eyes burn at the last four words. His heart swelled with love for this amazing woman and despair at the fact that she was indeed dying. 

He turned the page slowly, blinking back tears as he moved his clumsy hands over her delicate writing. Something pressed between the pages fell into his lap as he turned the page and he glanced down to see a single blossom in his lap.

A single tiger lily. Mulder set the book down and picked up the small bloom, the petals were waxy under his fingertips and he set the flower aside to pick up the journal again. 

This entry was different, not an entry really at all, but more of a letter. A letter to him. 

'Mulder

If you are reading this, then that means that something did happen to me, and I died before I got the chance to tell you everything I need to. So here goes. . .

For the past six years we have been friends, and we have been through some hard times together. . . actually, I cannot remember a hard time that you were not there to keep me strong.

Yes, you kept me strong, Mulder. Remember that always, you were always there ( sometimes more than others ) but there nonetheless. And I love you for that. Well not just for that, I love you for everything that you are. I hope you know that. I was in love with you for quite some time, Mulder. 

I do not fear death anymore, I fear your death more than I fear my own. I fear that without me you will not continue in the work. You told me not so long ago that you could not do it alone, well Mulder, if I'm gone, you may have to. 

Please do not give up once I am gone, simply remember that I loved you and that I believed in the work as much as you do. Please Mulder, expose these men for what they have done. . . to the both of us and to the world.

I love you, Mulder. I will be waiting. 

Scully'

Mulder sat for a long moment, re-reading the words she had written to him. After a long time he closed the book and set it back gently on the nightstand. He clasped his hands in his lap and swallowed hard, staring straight ahead at the wall. 

After a long time he turned and plucked the tiger lily from its resting place on Scully's pillow. He studied the blossom for a moment. The day's fading sun beams played across the oranges and golds of the flower, as well as the hint of red that made the lily appear as though it was fire licking at his fingertips. 

The colors were still vivid, the blossom still struggling to maintain a hold on life even though it had been plucked days before and taken from its natural environment, still the lily survived. But even as he held it in his hand, Mulder could see the colors fading and the petals drooping. The lily had begun to wilt. 

It wouldn't be long at all before it dried up and faded forever. . .

*******

Benedict watched quietly as Mulder hurried from the building, a small flower clutched in his hand. He cocked a slender eyebrow as Mulder tucked the lily into his pocket and headed towards his car. He froze when he glanced up and spotted Benedict standing in the shadows of the parking lot, calmly brushing an invisible wrinkle from his expensive suit. 

Benedict met his eyes with a grim expression and Mulder glanced around the empty lot. The place was surprisingly empty for nearly eight on a Saturday night and he glanced warily at Benedict, heading towards the other man with a sigh. 

"What do you want now?" Mulder hissed at the older man. Benedict merely shook his head with an air of disapproval. 

"You didn't listen to me, now look what's happened."

Mulder glanced quickly around the parking lot, still seeing no one, then turned back to glare at Benedict. "I want the cure." 

Benedict raised his eyebrows, "I know you do, but whose to say that I will give it to you." 

Mulder's eyes narrowed and he swung one arm out, pinning the other man against the wall. "Give me the cure!" He snarled in the man's face. He almost grinned as a flash of shock and something that resembled fear flashed over Benedict's bland expression. But all too quickly the mocking mask was back in place. 

"Or what?" He gestured towards Mulder's gun still in his holster. "You'll kill me? Go ahead, you'd only be doing their work for them." 

Mulder's features contorted in disgust. "Oh please, don't try to tell me that you're working by yourself now. I saw you meet Diana this morning, I know you're both working for the consortium." 

Benedict nodded slightly. "You were meant to see us." 

Mulder froze, "What are you talking about?" 

"You have to understand that you can trust no one, not Diana, not me." Benedict sighed slightly and pulled the vial from his pocket. 

"I am giving this to you because she doesn't deserve to die, no one deserves to die the way she is."

Mulder eyed the vial cautiously and took it from him slowly, pulling his arm away from Benedict. "And if I give this to her, I can never see her again." 

Benedict nodded slowly, "I'm sorry, but it's the only way."

Mulder glanced up at the building, the vision of the hazel eyed children flashing before his eyes again, then fading forever. 

"And they will never harm her again." 

"Never," Benedict promised. "You administer the cure, but you must be gone before she wakes up. Otherwise. . ." he trailed off, letting the threat hang in the air. 

Mulder nodded slowly. "I understand," he whispered hoarsely, staring at the vial in his hand. He glanced back up to Benedict and nodded slowly. 

Without another word he turned his back on the man and headed slowly for his car. 

*******

D.C. Hospital

8:14 p.m.

*******

Mulder opened the door to Scully's hospital room gently, standing in the dim light for a long time. Scully was motionless in the bed, as still as before, her chest rising and falling gently with the movement of her breaths. Mulder crossed over to the other chair and sat down in it, watching her for a long moment. 

A tiny glimmer of gold attracted his attention and he smiled slightly at the sight of her cross still hanging around her neck. He reached out to touch it gently, the cool metal warming under his touch and a bittersweet smile lit his eyes. So many times this tiny crucifix had led the two of them back to each other. It had become a symbol of their faith in each other, not just of her once waning faith in God. 

Mulder swallowed hard and drew his hand away, reaching for the vial in his jacket pocket. He studied the table next to him for a needle, finding one in a drawer beside him. 

He sucked the golden fluid into the syringe, pulling out every drop. Mulder glanced from the needle to his partner's still form a moment, then reached over to push up the sleeve of Scully's thin hospital gown. He frowned, recalling the last time he had brought her back to life with a similar serum while an alien ship shook around him. 

He slid the needle gently into her skin, pushing the cure into her blood, watching his life's work flow along with the gold colored fluid. 

The regret in what he was losing was small now, as long as Scully was alive he had no regrets. . .

'I could die tonight, but it will have been worth it, if I could spend this moment loving you. . . I don't want to live without you. . . please, let's find another way.'

Her words echoed accusingly in his ears. She didn't want to live in a world without him, but this was for her. She could go on without him. . .couldn't she?

Mulder stared down at the empty vial and syringe in his hand and felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Had he done the right thing? 

Before he could find an answer, Scully began to stir. . .

*******

end chapter six 

*******


	7. Electric Blue Eyes

*******

A Snatch Of Tiger Lilies

Chapter Seven 

*******

Electric blue eyes where did you come from? 

Electric blue eyes who sent you? 

Electric blue eyes, always be near me. 

Electric blue eyes, I need you. 

If you should go, you should know I love you. 

If you should go, you should know I'm here. 

Always be near me, guardian angel. 

Always be near me, there's no fear.

~The Cranberries, Electric Blues

*******

Saturday

September 11, 1998

D.C. Hospital 

8:15 p.m. 

*******

He froze as she let out a small sigh and turned her head to one side. The syringe dropped to the floor with abrasive clatter in the stillness and Mulder took a few steps backwards. How could she be awakening so quickly? Benedict had told him to be gone before she awoke. . . He had to get out of there. 

He grabbed the vial from the table and took a few stumbling steps backward. He could see her eyelids flickering as he reached for the doorknob. 

A soft murmur from her direction froze him in his tracks. 

"Mulder. . ."

*******

The rise to consciousness was slow and painful. She blinked a few times at the stark ceiling overhead and focused on a single shaft of moonlight streaking in through the window and lighting the patch of the ceiling just overhead of her. She breathed quietly for a long moment, focusing on the fact that whatever had happened this time, she was still alive. 

She was in a hospital. She recognized this as muffled beeps came from machinery around her, the bed underneath her was much more stiff than her own bed at home and the scents that greeted her clinched her suspicion. She blinked once more, murky memories arose from her mind as she recalled a warm kitchen. . . and Mulder. 

"Mulder. . .." She whispered softly to unfamiliar surroundings. 

She blinked again and lifted her head slowly to glance around the room. There were two empty chairs on either side of the bed, moonlight streaming in from behind to illuminate the darkness and emphasize the fact that something important was missing. She frowned at the sudden twinge of fear in her soul, she could have sworn that she had heard Mulder's voice . . .. Shaking her head slightly of the cobwebs that seemed to have grown there, she lifted her head slightly and looked up towards the doorway.

A dark figure stood in the doorframe, his familiar form traced by the dim light that shone through the cracks in the door. His back was to her and his hand was on the doorknob. She narrowed her eyes slightly and called to him. 

"Mulder?" She could see his shoulders slump at the sound of her voice, in relief or in defeat, she couldn't tell. He lifted his hand from the handle slowly and turned towards her 

At the sight of her luminous blue eyes shining at him in the darkness of the hospital room, all of his carefully constructed walls and convictions crumbled at his feet. 

She quirked an eyebrow and blinked slowly at him, struggling to push herself up on weak arms. "You planning to leave me here Mulder?" There was a hint of amusement in her quiet tone and he felt a fresh wave of guilt swirl about his heart. He could feel himself pale at her words and her slight smirk changed to a frown of concern. 

"Mulder, what is it?" 

He glanced down at the small vial clutched in his palm, and then up to her. There was a pleading look in her eyes and she held an arm out to him, beckoning him closer. "Mulder come here."

He took a hesitant step towards her, reaching out to grasp her hand in his own. He examined her palm for a moment, before dropping a chaste kiss into it. He met her eyes slowly and watched the clear electric blue darken to a murky turquoise. 

He dropped to his knees beside her bed and hugged her arm to his chest gently. She tilted her head and pushed herself up gently, watching him with perplexity.

"I'm sorry, Scully." He whispered as he planted light, soothing kisses up her arm. "I'm so sorry."

She swallowed the lump of fear that had risen in her throat and tilted his face up to hers. "Mulder, I'm fine. I'm still alive, there's no reason for you to be sorry." She ran her fingers lightly through his dark tresses and heard a barely audible sigh issued from his end as he shook his head wordlessly and leaned up to kiss her on the cheek. 

"I love you," he breathed quietly into her ear, nuzzling the soft skin of her cheek with his nose briefly. The sadness in his words tugged at Scully's heart strings and she turned her head to kiss him gently on the lips. 

"I love you too, Mulder," she whispered against his lips with a small smile. He bent his head and reached into his pocket. He moved the hand he had been gripping back to her side and pressed something soft into her palm, closing her fingers tightly over it. 

"You should go back to sleep, you still need your rest," he whispered, moving away from her abruptly. "I'll go tell your mother and doctor that you're awake." He shot one last lingering glance to her before stepping out into harsh brightness in the hallway. 

Scully stared at the door for a long moment, the nagging feeling that she had missed something vital while she had been out of it gnawed fiercely at her heart. She shook her head and swallowed hard, glancing down at what he pressed into her hand. She drew in a sharp breath and bit her lip as she unfolded her fingers. 

In her palm lay a single tiger lily, slightly crushed and wilted, but still vivid even in the darkness of the room. 

*******

D.C. Hospital

8:23 p.m.

*******

A knock on Scully's hospital room door alerted her sometime later. She glanced up from the blossom still clutched in her hand to the door in front of her. 

"Come in," she called weakly, her voice still raspy from lack of use. The door was pushed open rather hesitantly and Scully glanced up hopefully, expecting it to be Mulder. Instead the large frame of her boss filled her doorway, blocking out the light from the hall that threatened to spill into the shadows of her dim room. 

Walter Skinner glanced around the dark room before allowing his gaze to fall on the frail figure in the bed. He swallowed hard and gestured towards the lightswitch. 

"Agent Scully. . . do you mind if I turn on the light?" Scully shook her head and Skinner reached out to flick the lightswitch. 

Scully winced against the brightness as it flooded her stark hospital room and dropped her gaze back to the flower in her lap. The bright orange and red of the petals was a splash of color against the thin pale hospital sheets that covered her. She traced the soft petals with her fingertips, silently willing the flower to bloom again. 

"How are you feeling Scully?" Skinner's soft baritone interrupted her thoughts and she glanced up to meet his concerned eyes. 

Scully dropped her fingers that were fiddling with the flower petals heavily onto her lap and sighed softly. "I'm fine," she answered quietly, steady blue eyes daring him to doubt her. Skinner nodded, it was the answer he had truly expected, and sat down heavily in the chair Mulder had vacated some time earlier. 

"I uh. . ." Scully cleared her throat shakily and sniffed slightly. "I talked to Mulder like you asked me to." 

Skinner's face softened at her words and he shook his head, "Scully you don't have to. . ."

"Yes I do," Scully corrected him. A light flared in her eyes and for a moment Skinner saw the competent FBI agent whom he had grown fond of over the years rather than the frail skeleton he saw before him. 

Scully's gaze faltered suddenly as she fingered the soft petals of the flower in her hand once more. "You can't let him transfer out of the X-Files." 

Skinner narrowed his eyes slightly and frowned. "Agent Mulder came to me several days ago with his request for a transfer, the reason he gave on paper was of a 'conflict of personalities' between the two of you." Scully snorted softly at this and Skinner could swear that he saw a ghost of a smile pass over her face. "I asked him what his real reason was and I gathered from his tone that he was feeling guilty over your. . .." He stumbled suddenly over his words and Scully bit her lip.

"My cancer returning."

"Right. . ." Skinner swallowed. "Why do I get the feeling that it's more than that, Agent Scully?" Scully's eyes flickered over his features for a moment, studying him, as if she could see through him. Her gaze fell once more to the tender bloom in the palm of her hand. The tiger lily seemed to be gaining its vibrancy as if she could stroke the life back into the satiny foliage. 

"Sir, if I tell you this. . .." She glanced back up at him, uncertainty clouding the blue of her eyes. "If something happens to Mulder because I tell you this . . .." She let the veiled accusation hang in the air between them and Skinner shook his head in understanding. Scully didn't trust anyone but Mulder, and that included him. He had worked with Cancerman and the consortium before. . . 

"I understand Agent Scully."

Scully nodded and drew in a deep breath. "The night Mulder brought me to the hospital. . . the night I discovered that my cancer had returned Mulder was approached by a man." Her nostrils flared slightly in anger at this man whom she had never met, yet a man whom she despised simply because of what he was doing to the two of them. 

"This man told Mulder that he could give Mulder a permanent cure for me. . . if Mulder transferred out of the X-Files that is. And if he left me and never contacted me again." Skinner's eyes darkened as he recalled the thinly veiled threats Cancerman had dropped on his head after Mulder had requested transfer. 

"Mulder and I. . . talked," Skinner noticed how she stumbled over the word, a faint flush rising to tinge her cheeks. "We came to an understanding. He knows now that I don't want him leave the X-Files for me. I need you to refuse his transfer in case his conscience starts acting up again and he decides to leave after all." 

Skinner nodded slowly and sat back in his chair, studying the woman in front of him. He could see that proficient FBI agent still, lurking within her small frame. But there was a defeated look in her eyes was something new for him. 

Skinner cleared his throat gruffly and watched the woman carefully. "You know that if I refuse his transfer, they will most likely kill you."

Scully let loose a short bark of laughter, startling Skinner slightly as it broke through the quietness in the room. "How can they kill me, Skinner?" A sardonic smile twisted her lips and she shook her head. "How can they kill me," she repeated softly, dropping her gaze to the blossom on her lap, she seemed to be speaking more to the lily than to him. "If I am already as good as dead?"

Her weary words haunted him as he left her in her hospital room, still staring morosely at the tiger lily in her lap. 

*******

Reflecting Pool

9:00 p.m.

*******

"You should be long gone by now you know." The smooth British accented tone came from behind him like an accusation as Mulder stood in front of the reflecting pool. Without bothering to turn and glance at the other man, Mulder nearly scowled at his reflection in the rippling water. 

"You didn't tell me how quickly the cure would work. I didn't have enough time." 

Benedict stepped up from behind him to claim the spot next to Mulder, still not glancing at the other man, rather staring straight ahead into the quiet waters. 

"I didn't think it would work so fast." He admitted. "Normally it takes up to an hour for the patient to regain full strength and recover, but not your partner." He chuckled softly and bent to pick a pebble off the ground. 

"She recovered right away. She's quite extraordinary, your Scully." Benedict acknowledged with a slight nod to Mulder.

Mulder allowed a rueful grin to pass over his lips. "Yes, she is." 

Benedict flicked his eyes at Mulder for a brief moment. He believed it was the first time he had addressed his partner by name. And the first time Mulder had allowed an emotion other than rage or despair seep into his voice while they were speaking. 

The two of them stood for a long moment in silence, broken only by Benedict as he tossed the pebble into the pool, watching the ripples spread and disappear at the edges. 

"I was like you once, you know." Mulder quirked his eyebrows slightly at the other man's 

statement. X had said something remarkably like that to him once. "I was young once," Benedict smoothed his mustache with his fingertips and swallowed hard. "In love," he added softly. Mulder's bland expression remained. "My wife was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on, Agent Mulder. . . But my job, it came with a price." Benedict cleared his throat almost inaudibly, but Mulder's senses were on full alert, this was obviously a painful subject for him. 

"She was abducted, like your partner, your Scully." Again Mulder felt something deep inside him stir with affection and longing at the term. 

"When she was returned to me, she had been made barren, like your partner. We were both so enraged at them when we discovered that we couldn't have children. These were people's lives we were tampering with, I had never realized it until that moment. We removed the chip from her neck. . .." Benedict swallowed hard and watched the lights from the street flicker against the surface of the water, like pixies from a fairy tale, lighting up the water. 

"That was our first mistake."

"Why?" Mulder's soft voice broke through Benedict's haze of memories as they clouded him. Benedict glanced over to meet his eyes for the first time. 

"Why did you remove the chip?" Mulder asked, a puzzled look crossing over his face. "You must have known that she would get cancer." 

Benedict sighed heavily and shook his head. "No, the chips were still experimental at this point. We had no idea that the women would get cancer if they removed their chips. We didn't have a cure back then, we hadn't anticipated something like this. . . we soon discovered what a mistake we had made." He lowered his head, ebony locks falling across his forehead and for a moment, Mulder saw grief flicker through that mask of coldness Benedict held in place. 

"Miranda was the first to die of the cancer," he said softly. Mulder felt a pang of sympathy for this man who had obviously been through the same thing he had. 

"I held her on her deathbed. . . felt her hand grow cold in my own. . . she literally slipped from my grasp." Benedict shook his head slightly, awash in the grief of a time long gone. 

"So why do you still work for them?" Mulder's voice was quiet as he reflected on all the times he had mourned his partner like this. 

Benedict shook his head. "I swore that someday I would find a permanent cure. I swore that no more women would die the way my wife did." He raised his head again and met Mulder's eyes. "I was telling the truth when I told you I felt sorry for your partner, Agent Mulder. I honestly do. Nobody deserves to die like this." Mulder stared at the other man for a long moment, seeing for the first time a flicker of humanity beneath his cold surface. 

"Tell me Benedict," Mulder said softly, keeping his eyes focused on the man. "If somebody had approached you all those years ago and offered you a cure for your wife's cancer. . .. On the condition that you leave her forever, would you have done it?" Benedict flinched almost imperceptibly and Mulder nodded grimly, he had struck a tender chord. Benedict ran his slender fingers through his coal black hair and shifted slightly. 

"In a heartbeat. . .." He murmured to the whispering waters that rippled in the moonlight in front of him. Mulder drew in a deep breath and released it with a heavy sigh. 

"But you would have wanted to die every day you had to live without her." Benedict closed his eyes in defeat and Mulder knew he was right. 

"You see, I know what that feeling is like, Benedict." Mulder set his jaw and turned his gaze triumphantly out over the glassy waters that rippled in front of the two of them. Under his gaze a crimson leaf from a nearby tree drifted out of the autumn night air and into the water, rippling the surface out to the edges of the pool. 

Simple things like these moments caused ripples in life, ripples that would have repercussions that would never be changed. 

"I will not leave her." Mulder announced quietly, Benedict glanced at him, dark eyes clearly startled. "You may kill me," Mulder whispered in the direction of the ripples as they spread to his feet. "And you may very will kill her, but at least we will have been together. . . That is all that matters." 

Without another word, he turned his back on the rippling waters and the stunned man who seemed to be lost in the repercussions of his own ripples in time. And Fox Mulder walked away. 

*******

D.C. Hospital

9:45 p.m. 

*******

The light from Scully's hospital room poured out into the hallway floor in a shaft of warm light as Mulder approached. He grinned ruefully at the beam on the floor, somehow, no matter where she was, Scully managed to make it a little more comfortable. 

The door to her hospital room was flung wide open and the lights inside shone brightly, daring anyone to enter her sanctuary with lingering darkness. 

Mulder stopped at the doorway and poked his head inside. She was sitting up in her bed, reading a steamy romance novel and looking utterly bored with it. Her head lifted as he entered the room and as her eyes landed on him, they lit up. 

"Ah, Mulder, thank God you're here!" She exclaimed, tossing the book to one side and pushing herself up into a sitting position. "It seems half of D.C. has been in to see me tonight, but not a one of them was the one person I really wanted to see." She greeted him with that rare, dazzling smile of hers that he had seen scarce times before, and before he knew it he could feel a rueful grin spreading across his own face. 

"Well why don't you tell me who you really want to see and I'll see if I can call them." He 

approached her with a wry tone coloring his voice, this banter was an easy, familiar thing for them. And something that he had sorely missed. Scully rolled her eyes at him and her features softened as he leaned down to kiss her gently on the cheek.

"Where were you?" She asked softly as he settled back into the chair by her bedside. "I missed you." She admitted quietly. 

Mulder bit his lip and reached out to grasp her hand, bringing it up to his mouth to drop a loving kiss on her skin. "I was just out. . . tying up some loose ends. How are you feeling?"

Scully frowned slightly at his vague answer, but let it slide. "Actually," she said. "I feel better than I have in months." 

Mulder nodded slightly and stroked the supple skin between her thumb and her forefinger lightly. "Well that's good," he averted his eyes from hers for a moment and whispered. "A good sign maybe." 

Scully nodded slightly and swallowed hard. Mulder glanced up at her and sighed. "Are you scared Scully?" 

The woman in the bed lowered her head, allowing her crimson hair to fall across her face like a curtain. Mulder reached out to push it back behind her ear and she caught his hand, gripping it tightly. "Of dying?" She whispered to his hand. Mulder nodded mutely and she shrugged. "I was. But I'm not anymore, I told you that. I know there is something after this life," she raised her eyes to meet his stormy hazel pools. "I have to believe that. . . Death is inevitable, one of the few things you can count on in life." 

Mulder cracked a smile, "Death and taxes." Scully raised her head and matched his grin. "Death, taxes and you. The three things I could ever count on." 

Mulder raised an eyebrow, "Me?" 

She nodded. "I could always depend on you, Mulder." She smirked slightly and shook her head. "I could always depend on you ditching me to chase after some wild theory. I could always depend on the fact that I would have to go save your sorry ass and listen to how you did all of it 'for my own good.'" She squeezed his hand and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, those are things I could always depend on." 

Mulder pouted. "Aw, Scully, I'm hurt." 

She shook her head again and chuckled. "Okay, okay, you want to know what I really depended on that I was always grateful for?" He nodded slightly and she kissed the back of his hand. "I could always depend on your passion for the work. I could always depend on you returning to me after all these crazy goose chases. I could always depend on your loyalty, and overprotectiveness," she smirked a little at that, but remained serious. 

"I could always depend on the fact that, no matter what happened to me, you would make it all right in the end. You would help me. . . you would always find me if I was in danger." She kissed his knuckles lightly and smiled slightly. 

"And I am more grateful to you for that than anything in the world, Mulder." She met his eyes again, relieved to see the stormy hazel calm to a deep green. She leaned over and laid a kiss softly on his lips. "Thank you, Mulder." 

He nodded and cleared his throat slightly. "It's nothing that you wouldn't do for me, huh?" She smiled gently and nodded, opening her mouth to speak once more. A small noise stopped her before she could even get the words out, and they both turned to see a doctor standing in the doorway. 

"Dana," the man strode in briskly, white lab coat floating about him like a wraith. "I'm glad you are still awake, we need to take you up to x-ray." 

Scully frowned, "Now?" 

The man nodded. "The speed of your recovery is somewhat curious. We'd like to run some tests to see why exactly you seem so much healthier now." 

Scully sighed slightly and nodded. "All right, I suppose." She turned to Mulder, whose eyes had darkened considerably. "Promise me you'll go home and get some sleep?" 

Mulder raised his eyebrows, "Scully. . ." 

Scully's eyebrows rose in return. "Mulder." She responded, a warning that he was familiar with evident in her tone. He let out an exaggerated sigh of defeat and nodded. 

"All right, all right. But I'm going to be back first thing in the morning. . . there's still something I need to tell you." His eyes flicked to the doctor who had retreated to waiting outside the doorway. He turned back to Scully who was nodding her consent and leaned down to kiss her gently on the lips. 

"I love you," he whispered, still amazed that he could speak the words freely. Scully smiled and kissed his hand in return, before letting him go. 

"I know!" She called after him softly. He chuckled as he neared the door. 

Scully frowned suddenly and called out to him again, "Mulder?" 

He turned back, still smiling. "Yeah?" 

She furrowed her eyebrows and glanced at him. "You know you never told me. Why were you at my apartment Wednesday night when you found me?" Mulder gripped the doorframe and he lowered his eyes, recalling his dream. His forehead wrinkled in thought and at last he shook his head. 

"I don't know exactly," he told her. "I just . . . knew that I had to be there." He smiled at her one last time before vanishing out of the doorway. 

Scully stared at the empty doorway for a long moment, before reaching for the book she had tossed aside earlier. Flipping through the pages she landed on the spot where she had close the book. The vermilion tiger lily lay pressed between the pages, the petals fading a little in their worn state. 

*******

11:21 p.m.

******* 

The cigarette smoke drifted up towards the ceiling in lazy circles, the man flicked ash of the end of the dying stub and blew out a breath full of smoke. 

"Our informant has informed us that Mulder was refused transfer." The deep voice of a heavyset man on his left broke into his thoughts as Cancerman dropped the butt of his cigarette into a nearby ashtray. He turned to glance at the other man, with a thoughtful expression, as if he knew something that no one else knew, and he was feeling smug about it. 

"You were supposed to deal with Skinner." Another man, standing in the shadows of the room, a cigar draped lazily through his fingers, thick smoke drifting about the room to add to the ever building haze. Cancerman pulled another cigarette out of his jacket pocket, along with a lighter. "I did," he informed them, raising the two to his mouth in order to light the cigarette. "But it was your informant who was supposed to convince Mulder to leave." He took a deep drag on the cigarette and exhaled loudly. "My sources tell me that Benedict," he turned to face the man hidden in the shadows behind him. "Benedict has not done his job accordingly." 

The other men turned to face Benedict, who met them all with an icy glare. "I did my job."

"But not well enough apparently," Cancerman challenged, blowing a ring of smoke into the haze that clung to the room. 

Benedict glared at the older man, eyes narrowing as he spoke. "Well then what would you have me do about it?"

Cancerman's depraved sneer was enough to sink Benedict's heart, even before he could hear the words he knew were coming. . . 

*******

Her eyes were wide in fear as a bright light pervaded her room. The acrid scent of cigarette smoke filled her nostrils and she flung her hands out in an attempt to fight off her attackers. 

Strong, slender hands gripped her wrists and pinned her down. Through the brightness that blinded her she could make out a dark halo about the man's head. She felt something sharp pierce her skin and she let out a loud gasp which was quickly smothered by one hand. 

And just before she had sunk into oblivion, two words were whispered into her ear. 

"I'm sorry," a faint whisper hissed into her ear, there was a decidedly sad tone about it and a lingering accent. . . British? She thought through the haze of her mind. 

But then everything was dark again. 

*******

Sunday 

September 12, 1998

4:12 a.m.

*******

Mulder awoke with a start out of the nightmare that plagued his dreams. He shot up in the bed, looking around in a panic for the woman he knew was not there. 

He drew in a steadying breath and grabbed his phone. "Scully, oh God, Scully. . .." He whispered fervently, it was like his mantra in the darkness. She had to be okay, she had to be safe. How could anything happen to her in a hospital?

But all his hopes were dashed as the phone began to ring. . . .

*******

end chapter seven.

*******


	8. A Thousand Oceans

*******

A Snatch Of Tiger Lilies

Chapter Eight

*******

"These tears I've cried 

I've cried 1000 oceans 

and if it seems I'm floating

in the darkness well, 

I can't believe that I would keep,

keep you from flying.

And I would cry 1000 more,

if that's what it takes to 

sail you home . . .

I'm aware what the rules are 

but you know that I will run 

you know that I will follow you.

These tears I've cried 

I've cried 1000 oceans 

and if I'm floating in the darkness well, 

I can't believe that I would 

keep you from flying 

and I will cry 1000 more 

if that's what it takes 

to sail you home 

sail you home . . ."

~Tori Amos, 1000 oceans

*******

Sunday 

September 12, 1998

4:12 a.m. 

*******

The pounding of weary feet upon the cold linoleum was the only sound to be heard in the hospital at four in the morning. Red and blue lights flashed silently outside, reflecting upon the shattered glass that glittered on the floor as Fox Mulder slowed to a stop outside of his partner's hospital room. In the stillness of the hall as all eyes turned to him, you could almost hear his heart breaking oh so quietly. 

There are moments in life that seem to move slower than all the rest for those who live through them. Moments of happiness and despair that in the end, are just a matter of destiny. 

He seemed oblivious to the doctors, nurses and police officers that were scattered about the room. Every head turned as he moved through the doorway, gliding like a specter, a wraith that could no longer function without his other half. People seemed to draw away from him automatically, but their eyes were pulled to the darkness that gnawed at him. He paid the others no heed, pushing past the yellow tape that bound the sanctuary. No one bothered to stop him, they seemed to know that he deserved to be there more than any of them.

A snatch of bright color attracted his gaze, he squatted before the bed and blinked heavily, attempting to regain his composure to switch back into 'G-man' mode. He pulled on a latex glove and pushed aside the tangled sheets to tug on the single vermilion petal. 

A crumpled tiger lily fell into his hand, the petals crinkling and drying at the edges and the color fading to a dull orange. 

Reality slowly filtered back to Mulder as a familiar voice nearby murmured, "Fox?" 

Mulder blinked slowly and turned, standing and shoving the flower once again into his pocket. Margaret Scully stood in the doorway, there was a wild fear in her eyes that struck Mulder's heart. "Fox, what happened? They won't tell me anything." There was a tremor in her voice and he could see her chin trembling ever so slightly. Mulder pulled the glove off and swallowed hard, turning his back on the room that was full of people, yet still empty to him. 

He shook his head and bit his lip, stretching out one arm to rest his palm on the elder Scully's back. "I don't know . . . I got a phone call. . ." He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. 

"All they could tell me was that there was some sort of situation, and she's missing. . ." Mrs. Scully paled visibly and shook her head. 

"Who would do this, Fox? Who would do this to a dying woman?" Her voice cracked on the last few words and Mulder frowned. 

"Mrs. Scully. . ." Mulder sighed and ran his fingers through his spiky hair and led the older woman gently out of the room. "Dana's not dying." 

Margaret glanced up at him in surprise. "What?" 

Mulder glanced around the empty hallway and lowered his voice, "I found a cure for her. Nobody knows that she is cured yet, not even her. I had intended to tell her tomorrow morning." He narrowed his eyes and glanced down at his watch with a sigh. "Today, whatever. . . But it looks like I won't get a chance now." 

Margaret sank down into the chair outside of her daughter's hospital room with a heavy sigh. She was silent for a long moment before turning on Mulder, eyes flashing. "Fox, I know that you and Dana work on some dangerous things, and that you have lethal enemies. I need you to tell me the truth, are they the ones who did this to her?" 

Mulder sighed and eyed the woman thoughtfully for a long moment. Then he too sank back in the chair next to her and dropped his head into his hands. "That would be my guess." He said softly. 

Margaret narrowed her eyes and shook her head. "Why her?" Her voice was tremulous and unsure as she spoke. "Why Dana?" 

Mulder lifted his head slightly to glance over at her. "I could give you a dozen different answers, but you wouldn't like a single one of them. And none of them will bring her back."

The two of them sat in silence for a long time. Margaret glanced over at Mulder, breaking the silence with a quiet statement. "But you will bring her back." 

Mulder looked over at the woman and swallowed hard. "Yeah," he whispered hoarsely. "I'll bring her back." He affirmed quietly, amazed at the confidence in his own voice. 

He wondered faintly which one of them he was trying to convince. . . 

*******

5:41 a.m.

*******

Mulder leaned heavily against the wall and stared dully at the blank pad of paper in his hand. He had gathered no evidence, no information on how to find his partner. It was as if one moment she had been lying quietly in her bed, and the next she was just. . .gone. 

He ran his fingers through his dark, spiky hair and tossed the bare pad onto the empty seat where Mrs. Scully had sat only an hour earlier. He had sent her home with the promise that he would contact her the minute he knew anything. He had expected someone, anyone to have seen something, but there was no one who knew anything. 

Mulder glanced down at the stark pad of paper on the chair, the white paper contrasting sharply with the blue fabric. He bit his lip and averted his eyes from the lack of evidence and turned towards the empty room once more. 

He edged his way past the yellow tape and glanced around hesitantly. The crowd had dispersed about a few hours ago, and only a few security guards and police officers lingered about the room. Mulder closed his eyes against the chaos in the room for a moment and drew in a deep breath. He struggled to clear his mind and maintain an objective view on the crime that had been committed. He opened his eyes and glanced around the room once more, fighting against the streak of anger that flashed through his soul at the injustice of what had been done. 

His eyes fell contiguously on the broken glass in the corner of the room. He crossed across and pulled on a plastic glove with an echoing snap. He peered at the fractured glass in the windowpane with a critical eye. His image reflected back at him with a twisted distortion, dark hair and even darker eyes warping into an odd caricature that he could not recognize. He frowned and tilted his head, studying this alien fantasy that he was unfamiliar with. It didn't look like the Mulder he knew. 

But then again, perhaps he was not that Mulder without Scully. 

Mulder turned away from the image that stared out accusingly from a single shard of glass in the window and stooped down to pick through the shattered glass on the hard floor. He ran his fingers across the hard linoleum and held his gloved fingers up for him to see. He frowned slightly at the sticky, crimson substance that was rapidly drying on his finger. He turned slightly and lifted up the bedsheet, more glass was strewn under the bedframe. Something gleamed in the soft light that filtered in from above the bed and Mulder reached in to retrieve a single shard of glass, the blood glinting on the glittering shard garishly. Mulder sucked in a deep breath, aware of whose blood it could be on that shard. He turned the shard over in his hand and frowned deeply. Imprinted on the glass was one crimson fingerprint, smudged slightly, yet still 

discernible.

He glanced up at one of the other cops and swallowed hard. "Hey," he called softly to him, standing slowly, eyes transfixed on the carmine stickiness. "I think I've found something here." He held out a hand and someone handed him a plastic evidence bag. He slipped the glass gently into the bag. He straightened noticeably and tucked the bag gently into his inside pocket, feeling as it rested there softly beside the crushed tiger lily. 

He glanced around the room once more and turned to the curious cops as he retreated. "Okay, everyone has to clear out of here," he could feel an authoritative tone enter his voice and he barked out the orders at the bewildered cops. 

"A federal agent's life is at stake here. I will have another agent out here as soon as I can, until then, nobody touches anything!" He shot a glare towards the men as they shuffled out of the room slowly. "Until another Agent gets here I want guards posted at this doorway at all times. No one goes in unless they have proper identification! Understand?" At the wary nods of the men, Mulder released a long sigh and turned from their eyes to pull out his cell phone. 

"Danny," he snapped into the phone. He frowned and shook his head. "Look I don't care what time it is, I need your help, an Agent's life depends on it." Mulder relaxed slightly and nodded. "Thank you, now I need a favor, I have a fingerprint and possibly a blood sample that I need run through the database for me. . ."

*******

Undisclosed Location

Washington D.C.

6:04 a.m.

*******

There was a bright light seeping through her eyelids, gritty and harsh in its brilliance. She forced her eyes open, feeling a sharp pain shoot through her skull at the tiniest movement. She swallowed hard, struggling to get rid of the thick bitter taste that resided in her mouth. Images swam blurrily in front of her unfocused eyes and she squinted, focusing on a thick smear of color splashed across the floor. The acrid, coppery scent of blood wafted up towards her nostrils and she winced at the realization that it was most likely her blood on the floor. A single streak of sunlight filtered in from an unseen shaft somewhere above her head, falling upon the shattered remains of the woman hunched over in the chair. 

Scully shook her head wearily, attempting to clear the cobwebs that littered her brain and glance around the room. It was stark and spartan, the only object in the room being the stiff chair she was bound to. 

She straightened slightly in position and immediately groaned at the exquisite pain that ricocheted through her body. She ground her teeth together and strived to fight off the anguish that rolled through her. She flexed her fingers experimentally and grimaced at the feeling of a clasp binding her wrists to the arms of the chair. She tried the same thing with her ankles and found the same predicament there. She was trapped. Trapped. She had no idea where she was and by the looks of the room, no idea how to get out. And Mulder. . . oh god, Mulder, how would he know to find her? 

Mulder, the thought of him struck a tender chord in her heart. The memory of his kisses, his caresses and whispered vows of love came back to mind and she blinked back hot tears. He would be going through hell with her missing, she thought sadly. And she knew that wherever he was, he was blaming himself for all of this. 

Scully bit her lip hard, pushing away thoughts of her partner and twisted around to glance around the room. She suppressed a groan at what she saw. There was four walls and seemingly no door. She twisted her body around, biting her lip at her complaining limbs. There were three bare walls . . . and one wall, with a two way mirror on it. Scully glared at the mirror with an undisguised loathing, she could practically feel the evil seeping through the glass. 

And then with a certainty, she knew who was behind that mirror. There were only two people in the world who would use her this way. And only one who had threatened her less than twenty-four hours earlier. 

Scully hissed an oath under her breath and turned back around, fully alert now. She glared down at her wrists, struggling to be free of the metal restraints. She jerked her wrist and stiffened immediately as a bolt of pain shot through her body, triggered by her struggling. 

She slumped against the chair, but still the pain radiated throughout her thin frame. Her head slumped and she bit her lip hard to keep from screaming. 

The descent into darkness was long in coming. 

*******

On the other side of the glass wall two men and a woman stood watching the petite redhead struggle against the pain. Cigarette smoke drifted about them in a lazy haze, creating a thick smog in the small room. 

Diana Fowley wrinkled her delicate nose at the acrid stench and moved closer to the glass. Her lips curved up in a cruel smile as she watched Scully wince, then twist around to glare at them through the mirror. 

The smile faded however as Scully's gaze landed right on Diana. It seemed that she knew the other woman was there. There was pain in her eyes, but the expression on her face was one of cold indifference. And a slight smugness to the pain. 

Diana glared back at the smaller woman stonily through the mirror. That smugness sickened her. Dana Scully truly believed that if she died in that stark room on the other side of the mirror, she would still have Fox Mulder's heart. 

What sickened Diana even more, was that deep down, she knew that Scully was right. 

She scowled and turned away from the mirror as Scully's thrashing against the restraints began. She turned and met the tortured eyes of Benedict. The man glared at her accusingly for a brief moment, before his stony facade fell back into place and he slunk back into the shadows. 

With an inaudible snarl, Diana turned on her heel and strode out of the room. Cancerman watched her go, blowing a ring of cigarette smoke lazily as the door slammed behind her. Benedict met the older man's eyes wordlessly. Cancerman narrowed his eyes and cocked an eyebrow at Benedict, silently challenging. 

Benedict swallowed hard and averted his eyes, turning back to the woman slumped in her chair. Cancerman chuckled quietly and tossed the still smoking cigarette to the floor and strode out the door after Diana. 

Benedict narrowed his eyes and leaned his head against the glass that separated him from the woman on the inside. He could see her convulsions had stilled, and though she had finally slipped into unconsciousness, tremors still wracked her body every now and then. 

He shook his head and pulled away from the glass partion, flicking a switch on a board beside him. Her tremors stilled and she slumped into the chair, finally still. 

Benedict shut his eyes against the site before him and scrubbed at his face wearily with his hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the still form on the other side of the wall. 

"I'm sorry. . ."

*******

6:17 a.m.

*******

Mulder jerked his drooping head off the desk and glanced around the room wearily. He stretched out a hand to grip the now cold mug of coffee that sat, abandoned in front of him. He sat up slightly, scrubbing at his eyes with a clenched fist and forced some of the bitter, lukewarm liquid down his throat. Even though it was nearing cold, it still seemed to scald his insides as they churned with fear. He ran one hand through his short, spiky brown hair and sighed loudly. "Find anything yet?" He addressed the man who sat at the desk behind him without turning to see him.

Danny tapped a few keys on the keyboard and frowned slightly, narrowing his eyes at the 

computer screen. "I think I might have something here, Mulder. . ."

Mulder lifted his head and turned his gaze towards the other man, fingers still gripping the cold ceramic of the coffee mug. He arched an eyebrow and leaned back with a soft, "What is it?" 

Danny narrowed his eyes slightly and shook his head. "I'm not sure." Mulder eased slowly out of his seat and rested his hands heavily on his waist as he turned and leaned over Danny's shoulder. "Arnold Bennet?" Mulder read aloud, eyebrows furrowing slightly in thought. He straightened up and crossed his arms across his chest. "What do you have on him?"

Danny pushed up his glasses on his nose and scrolled slightly down the screen. "Arnold Bennet, born in England in 1962, he is 36 years old. Married once to an American; Miranda Stevens. . ." Mulder halted his pacing abruptly and his head shot up at the name. 

"Miranda," the name rolled off his tongue in a light hiss. His eyes darkened to a vicious, stormy green and he whirled around, his eyes narrowing in a malevolent glower. "Miranda?" He snapped, more of a confirmation than a question. Danny jumped at the virulent tone and whirled around to face him.

"Yeah, her name was Miranda. Why Mulder, you know this guy?"

Mulder swallowed hard and let out an exasperated sigh. "You could say that," he muttered darkly. He shook his head and gestured for Danny to continue. "Any addresses on there? Any place I might be able to find him?" 

Danny scrolled down the screen and shook his head. "Nope, all his homes were in London for the most part." 

Mulder cursed darkly under his breath and resumed his pacing across the grim room. "What about his wife? She was American right?" 

Danny glanced back at the screen and clicked a few keys, then nodded. "Yep, born and bred in New York, New York. She was a doctor." Mulder scoffed at the irony of it. Kill a doctor with a disease that was beyond all medical help. 

"Well did she have any homes, any apartments near here?" 

Danny sucked in his lower lip and chewed on it gently as he typed in a few more letters. "Let me see. . . yes she did actually. She had an apartment in Georgetown."

Mulder stopped dead in his tracks, "Georgetown," he muttered his breath, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. "Amazing, he's been under my nose the entire time." Mulder grabbed a scrap of paper of off the table in front of him and dug around in his inside pocket for a pen. 

He fingers brushed lightly over a single silky petal, and without looking or feeling it further, he knew that the lily was crumbling into dust by his ignorance. 

He bit his lip slightly and pulled his hand hurriedly out of his pocket, glancing around and grabbing a pen off of the desk next to Danny, scrawling the address down hurriedly. 

"Danny, I need you to call Skinner and tell him that I've got a lead. And I want you to tell him that if he is not at the hospital ransacking that hospital room for evidence he needs to get off his ass and get down there as soon as he can." He waved the scrap of paper wildly at the man as he backed his way out the door. Danny nodded, a bit puzzled by his instructions as he reached for the phone beside him. 

Mulder turned his back on the door, gripping the address in one hand, he turned and ran into the cold morning air. 

*******

Former Residence of Miranda and Arnold Bennet

Georgetown

6:54 a.m. 

*******

Mulder pulled up to the darkened apartment building and pulled his trenchcoat tighter around himself as he stepped out of the car onto the walk. The abandoned building loomed ominous and foreboding, a dark smudge against the indigo sky that was slowly lightening to a crystal blue. He was a dark blur against an even darker landscape. The area around him had once been a sunny metropolis. It had been destroyed by crime and graffiti that littered the dirty walls of a once proud building that now slumped into the dim mist. 

Mulder glanced around the area, a flash of bewilderment creasing his features before settling into his glowing eyes as he glanced down at the scrap of paper still clutched in his palm. 

"203 Grant. . .." He muttered softly to himself, he glanced up at the peeling painted numbers that faded gently from the dark wood. 203 Grant. It was the same place. Mulder glanced around the darkened apartment complex, it was hard to imagine this dismal place holding the happiest times of a man's life like it had for Benedict and his wife, Miranda. 

Mulder shook his head slightly in disbelief. He stepped out of the last remaining shaft of sunlight that filtered through the murky overcast skies overhead, and into the dusk of the shadows that welcomed him as another figment of darkness. He pushed the cracked and trifling door into the darkness, listening with all senses alert as the hinges squeaked noisily from the unaccustomed use. He glanced around in the dim, vacant building, hearing only the sounds of his own whispering breaths and a faint rustling coming from the top of the stairs. Probably just a mouse.

Another sound reached Mulder's ears, foreign in the reticent hush of the destroyed building. A scuffle amidst the rustling. . . and a faint cough coming from the top of the steps. 

Or maybe something a tad bigger than a mouse. . .

One hand went to the cool metal of his gun, resting on his hip, pulling it out into his palm. Mulder crept quietly up to the bottom of the steep flight of steps and shot a glance toward the top. A shadow fell across the wall at the top, a specter within the dusk, and then moved away. Mulder glanced back down the steps and gripped his gun in his hand, the cool metal warming under his grasp as he made his way ever so silently up the steps. He halted at the dark landing at the top, fighting back the shiver that threatened to crawl up his spine. He glanced around in the darkness, allowing his eyes to adjust. . .

And he froze suddenly as a trigger cocked by his ear, the noise splitting the opressive silence that clung to the musty air around him. Mulder closed his eyes heavily and cursed softly under his breath, as he slowly turned to face the man behind him. 

He found himself staring straight into the cold eyes of Alex Krycek. Mulder's eyes narrowed automatically and he felt his fingers tighten around the gun still clasped in his hand. 

"What are you doing here, Krycek?" He demanded quietly, his whisper a silent shout in the darkened building. 

Krycek raised his eyebrows and shrugged, keeping his gun aimed straight at Mulder's temple. "I could ask you the same thing, I didn't know that you worked for 'them'" 

Mulder grimaced in disgust and felt a low growl form deep in his throat. "I am not working for them. But I do need to see one of 'them.' . ."

Krycek nodded his understanding and backed away slightly, gun still level with the other man's forehead. "This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain lovely red headed partner of yours, would it?"

Mulder inhaled a sharp, silent breath, a dark anger rising in him and he swung his gun up level to the other man's temple. Krycek caught the gesture and smirked, stepping back from him, gun lowering to rest at his side. "I'll take that as a yes."

"What do you know?" Mulder demanded, his voice was a guttural rasp that he could barely identify as his own. 

Krycek shook his head, "I know a lot of things, Mulder."

Mulder swallowed hard, disgusted with the games Krycek was playing. He brought the muzzle of his gun up to rest underneath Kryeck's chin. The other man swallowed hard and glared at him down the barrel of the gun. "Do you know where she is?" Mulder asked, his voice was deathly quiet. 

Krycek sighed in resignation. "I don't know specifically. . . but a colleague of mine has been following Agent Fowley ever since her miraculous return from the dead." His tone held a barely concealed disgust towards the woman. Mulder's gaze hardened at the words and he chewed the inside of his lower lip nervously. 

"Diana has her?" 

"I'm afraid so," Krycek replied, his eyes lighting at the expression of rage that flitted across the other man's features. 

"Where are they?" Mulder demanded, pushing the cold metal of the gun a little harder into Kryeck's skin. The other man grimaced and sighed. 

"I'm not sure. There are a number of places she could have taken your partner to. A number of warehouses, abandoned buildings. . ."

Mulder scowled and his eyes narrowed as he pushed Krycek roughly into the wall behind him. He could hear the other man's startled gasp as his back made contact with the gritty wall behind him. There was a dim clatter as the gun was knocked from Krycek's grip and clattered to the grimy floor. Mulder's jaw set and his stormy eyes darkened to nearly black. "Listen to me you rat bastard." He shoved Krycek roughly to the floor and snaked one hand around to grasp his throat with one hand, fingers tightening slowly. 

"You will tell me where I can find her and you will tell me now, or else I will kill you with my bare hands." His voice dropped to a low hiss and his fingers clenched once more around Krycek's throat, the younger man's eyes widened in surprise and he made a breathy wheezing sound. Mulder smirked in satisfaction and released Kryeck, slamming him, hard, back to the ground. 

"Got that?" 

Kryeck lay back on the floor, panting heavily. He stared at Mulder for a long moment, eyes hardening as he let his breathing slowly return to normal. "You've tried to kill me before, Mulder. . ." 

Mulder glared at the other man, and straightened up, swinging one foot out swiftly to connect with the other man's gut. He heard Krycek gasp and wheeze once more and he smiled. 

"Yes I have tried to kill you Krycek, many, many times. And each time I've had a reason not to." Mulder snarled harshly, gun still in hand as he lowered his face level to Krycek's. 

"This time, you either tell me, or you die. There is no in between." 

Kryeck narrowed his eyes and glared into the Agent's eyes for a long moment. He sat, breathing heavily, slumped against the wall as Mulder watched him cautiously. He averted his eyes from the taller man and nodded slightly as if deciding something important.

Then lightening fast, he swung his good arm out connect with the back of Mulder's head. 

Mulder slumped to the ground with a groan, feeling the blows that were pelted on him by the younger man's hand with a vague clarity. He rolled away from Krycek, over the broken shards of glass and litter that were strewn about the grimy floor. He felt a sliver of glass bite deep into his shoulder and he grimaced in pain. Krycek straightened above him, one arm hanging limply at his side, plastic gleaming with an odd white luminescence in the dim light. He brought his good fist down with a sickening crack on Mulder's jaw.

Mulder squeezed his eyes shut and brought a hand up to his face, his slender fingers coming away from his lips slick with blood. His gaze landed briefly on Krycek and then flitted around the room. His eyes landed on a slender crimson gold petal that had fluttered from his pocket and landed on the floor in front of him. Krycek frowned at his expression and Mulder's eyes grew hard. Krycek stepped back, preparing himself for a blow. 

Instead, Mulder dropped to his knees and lifted the drooping petal gently dropping it into his pocket. He lifted his gaze to a puzzled Krycek, whose bruises were forming right before his eyes. He fingered the soft petal with a renewed vengeance. 

Scully, she was all that mattered here. . now. . . he had almost forgotten that in his rage against the man in front of him. 

Krycek narrowed his eyes and then silently, surrendered, lowering his head in defeat. He withdrew a small slip of paper from his coat pocket and handed it over to the man in front of him. "This is all that I know." He avowed softly. He nodded and stepped back. "Good luck . . .."

Mulder stared at him wordlessly, tongue flicking out to taste the bitter blood that streaked his lip. He glanced down at the paper and nodded, reading the addresses silently to himself. He glanced back up at Krycek and held his gaze for a long moment. And then he turned, and was gone. . .

Krycek sighed heavily and crossed over to the window at the end of the hall. He pushed aside the thick dusky curtains and glancing out into the shimmering mist that hung outside the glass, adherent to the pane. He wiped a spot clear of grime and gazed down at the solitary hunched frame that stuck out in the dim mist. Mulder crossed over to his car and opened his door. He paused suddenly and pulled something from his inside pocket, a single spot of brightness. A fading crimson patch that shone like a beacon through the hovering silver and gray clouds. Krycek frowned and narrowed his eyes, leaning closer to the window for a better glimpse. . .

But then the sanguine scrap and the man that held it in his possession were gone, as swiftly as they had come. 

*******

Undisclosed Location

Washington D.C.

7:18 a.m.

*******

She floated in a murky haze, a spiral of myriad colors that twisted and unfurled like silk ribbons inside her skull. She forced her eyelids apart sluggishly, sticky grime coating the dark lashes that fell softly against her cheek. The stark room swam in front of her and she blinked blearily a few times, struggling to bring the spinning ivory confines into focus. 

Gradually her other senses roused themselves from a quiet slumber. Her ears, picking up the low humming whine of machinery from the other side of the wall behind her. She lifted her head ever so slightly, her scarlet tresses a splash of bright and garish color in contrast with her pale and impassive features. She licked her dry, cracked lips with a parched tongue, wincing as she scraped across dried blood that had seared its hot liquid onto her labium. Scully blew a jagged sigh out between the cracked skin of her lips and raised her head slightly, pushing up the courage from some unknown source to keep moving. 

Voices and noises swam around her in a maelstrom of dazed cacophony. She could almost feel the whispered hush trailing across her skin. A single voice broke through the haze, a whisper at first that slid gently across her perceptions, so quiet that she could barely hear it. The voice was soothing, familiar, comforting. . . loving. . . a voice that had raised many times at her in frustration and anger, and soothed her with its gentle love and understanding. 

Scully watched a thick droplet of red drip to the cold floor below her, the room span dizzily around her, a sudden blur of red and white. . . blood and ivory swirling in a garish maelstrom. 

Her voice broke the stillness with one plea. . .

"Mulder. . ."

*******

end chapter eight

*******


	9. State of Emergency

*******

A Snatch Of Tiger Lilies

By Emily O'Donnell

*******

Chapter Nine

*******

"All the accidents that happen

follow the dot

coincidence makes sense

only with you

you don't have to speak

I feel . . .

emotional landscapes

they puzzle me

-- then the riddle gets solved and you push me up to this:

.....state of emergency.....

......how beautiful to be!......

......state of emergency......

.......is where I want to be......

all that no-one sees

you see

what's inside of me

every nerve that hurts you heal

deep inside of me

you don't have to speak - I feel

emotional . . ."

~Björk, Joga

*******

Sunday

September 12, 1998

Fox Mulder's Residence

7:16 a.m. 

*******

The warm sunlight dawned, brightening slowly on his face, casting dim shadows across his features as Fox Mulder slumped on his slick leather couch. There was a gnawing restlessness that grew in him as he sat still, struggling to relax when he knew he should be out looking for his partner. He squinted his eyes in the rays of sun and turned his face away into the dark shadows, scrubbing at his weary eyes with one hand. 

Skinner had called him from the hospital where he had finished examining Scully's room. He had demanded to know any bit of evidence Mulder had garnered. Then he had ordered that Mulder get at least a few hours of sleep with the elusive promise that he would call the moment the addresses on the paper had been checked out. Until then, there was nothing Mulder could do but wait. 

Blurry memories came to mind, the image of Scully collapsed in a bathtub, her own crimson blood swirling around her as it slid down the drain. The image that was burned into his brain. It was an image he had never witnessed with his own eyes, and yet he knew that it had happened. He had known it the night he found her, semi conscious and bleeding in her bathroom only a few days earlier. 

That knowledge seeped slowly into his mind. Had it only been five days earlier that they had been assigned back to the X-Files? And three days since her cancer had returned? It seemed like a lifetime that stretched out forever, an endless road that he feared to walk. 

And only two days earlier he had held his partner in his arms and told her that he loved her. . . . Now she was gone. . . and now there was the distinct possibility that he would never be able to tell her these things again. 

Mulder shook his head, attempting to clear these disturbing thoughts from his mind with little success. He turned his eyes from the glow of the sun beams that trickled into the room. He dropped his face into his hands wearily and closed his eyes, blotting out all the chaos that surrounded him until he drifted uneasily into the dark haven of slumber.

Images swirled about his brain, voices rushing by in a myriad tide that flowed through his mind. Past and future all blurred together with present images that haunted his psyche.

The flurry stilled suddenly, the stream trickling to slow stop in his consciousness. The whole world seemed to spiral inside of Mulder's head, and then spun to a stop on a building. The address was faint and blurry on the outside, and Mulder barely caught a glimpse as his mind swept him along to settle in a white room, on a limp form in a hard chair. White, stark walls surrounded her and the only splash of color amidst the bare surfaces was her dull crimson hair that fell across her pale skin in a soft curtain. 

She moved ever so slowly, dragging her tongue heavily across blood stained lips and wearily lifting her head. Mulder's heart ached as he watched her in this dream-like state; she was still alive, but it didn't seem by much. 

Scully.

"Scully," he mumbled softly aloud, as if she could hear his physical voice and give him some sign. She glanced up, vermilion locks falling away from her face as a single drop of blood spilled to the floor in front of her, marring the harsh, pale surface with her sticky red liquid. She blinked heavily, moving ever so slowly as she opened her lips to call out for him. 

Mulder. . . .

Mulder jerked awake with a start, his hand on the phone and dialing before he realized that he was conscious.

"Skinner," his superior's gruff tone barked across the phone lines, and Mulder concealed a wince.

"Sir."

"Agent Mulder?" Skinner's tone softened but did not sound less annoyed. "I thought I told you to get some sleep."

"You did," Mulder acknowledged. "I need you to read me those addresses again." He could practically hear the frown on the other end of the line as Skinner shuffled through a stack of papers. 

"Agent Mulder, I hate to tell you this. We have agents assigned to each one of these warehouses and they haven't noticed any activity." 

"Just read me the damn addresses, Skinner!" He heard his boss sigh heavily and more papers were rustled.

"808 Friedensburg, 2330 Susanann Drive, 40-1 Rock road, 2556 Hill road, 3347. . . ." 

Mulder frowned and blinked back a sudden image that flashed to mind. "Wait, what was that last one?" 

He heard Skinnner's obviously puzzled sigh as he repeated the address. "2556 Hill . . ." 

Mulder shot up off of his couch in excitement, eyes widening with anticipation. "That's it!" he exclaimed.

"How do you know?" Skinner's bewildered voice filtered across the phone line. 

Mulder shook his head and grabbed his jacket off the chair beside him. "Just trust me on this Skinner. Now, you can send some agents out to help me, or not, either way I'm going in."

Skinner blew out a long sigh and grunted softly. "Fine Mulder, but I hope you're right."

"Me too," Mulder whispered softly. "Me too." He clicked the phone off abruptly and grabbed his gun off of the table, checking to make sure it was loaded. 

"Hang on, Scully. I'm coming." 

*******

Washington D.C.

8:03 a.m.

*******

The sky overhead was grim and foreboding. The clouds gathered in a thick gray mass that blocked out every sun beam that attempted to peek through. It was a dramatic swing from the sunny morning that Mulder had woken up to. The weather, however, had gone swiftly downhill, the tumultous sky fitting his anxious mood as he sped along the deserted road towards 2556 Hill road. 

The landscape blurred outside his window and music blared quietly, turned so low that he could only hear soft murmurs of melody. The sky threatened him and dared him to keep going with every mile he gained towards his goal. The roads around him were empty, barren of any life or movement. It was as if the world had come to an end, and Mulder was the only one left amidst the bleak landscape. 

The leaves on the trees outside his window seemed to blur together and dissolve into streams of brilliant golds and reds as he passed them by. The grass went from verdant green to dim gray as he paid the world outside no heed. The only remaining color in the world seemed to be the prismatic hues of the crumpled tiger lily that lay abandoned on the seat beside him. 

He clenched the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white and his fingers grew clammy around the slick plastic. His hair was spiked out in every direction imaginable, and his eyes had darkened to a fervent dusk. His expression remained bland, but the steely glint in his gaze and the perceptible tightening of the muscles in his jaw betrayed his anxiety. 

A dull ache grew in the back of his skull as he sped silently along the slick roads. He could practically feel his partner near with every passing moment, but instead of relief there was an odd sense of dread gnawing at his soul. He struggled to shake it off, but still it remained. . . .

And so Fox Mulder continued to speed softly over the misty roads, towards his destiny.

*******

8:26 a.m.

*******

The sound of raindrops splashing quietly on the walls outside alerted Scully's heightened ears. She raised her head and stared dully at one wall, not really seeing the wall itself but the promise of what lay beyond the stark barrier. That was what kept her going. 

Mulder was on his way, she could feel it in her bones, in her heart, and in her soul. He was coming for her. 

Dim gray light filtered through the shaft and Scully frowned wearily. Where had the lights gone? They had turned off the overhead lights; it was much darker in the room than it had been earlier. She glanced around in the dim gray room and growled softly under her breath. She had not spoken at all since her capture, aside from the occasional cries for her partner. She refused to give them the pleasure of seeing her vulnerable. 

She twisted around to glare icily into the mirror behind her, garnering up enough strength to keep from crying out at the pin pricks that trailed up and down her spine as she moved. Her hair fell across her face in stringy wisps; her once brilliant blue eyes had dulled a bit from the constant state of pain she was being kept in. Her ivory skin had paled to ghostly white, and a thin sheen of persperation coated her forehead. She was dressed in the same gray sweat pants and t-shirt she had been wearing ever since she had been taken from the hospital. She shuddered to think of who had dressed her in this garb. 

Scully twisted back around and straightened up in the chair she was strapped to. She struggled once more against the metal constraints, to no effect. She shook her head slightly and chuckled softly in disgust, the sound breaking the oppressive silence that clung to the room. 

"He'll come for me, you know that." She spoke softly and unexpectedly, seemingly to no one, or herself. She shrugged and scoffed quietly. "Of course you know that, otherwise you wouldn't have taken me right? This is all a ploy to get to him." She twisted around again and glared at her wan features in the mirror. "Is he really so important? I mean, come on, why would you go to such great lengths to make his life miserable? All he wants is the truth. . . ." Her lips twisted in disgust and her eyes narrowed. 

"But of course that's the problem. He is too curious, and that disturbs you. Because he is the only one who has ever come so close to the truth and still be alive. And you *hate* that." Her voice dropped to a menacing whisper and she nodded to herself. 

"But he will come for me. And when he does, you are all going to hell." With that final benediction, Scully twisted back around in her seat and waited for her torture to begin anew. 

She did not have long to wait. 

*******

On the other side of the mirror Benedict hung his head and sighed heavily. "She's right, isn't she?" He lifted his head from the sight in the other room and turned his attention to the two people standing behind him. Diana was watching Scully's torture with rapt fascination and Benedict swallowed bile at the realization that she was enjoying this, she got off on seeing this woman in pain. Benedict glared at Diana in disgust for a long moment, then turned to the man hidden in the shadows of the room.

Cancerman's eyes were also fixed on the petite form inside the room, but his eyes didn't hold such a delighted gleam, he just looked grimly satisfied. He turned his gaze on Benedict and raised an eyebrow. 

"Right about what?" he asked innocently. Benedict sneered and stepped back as Cancerman brought another cigarette up to his lips and lit it. 

"That she is just a ploy, that this is all just a trap to get to Mulder." Benedict ran fidgety fingers roughly through his dark hair and swallowed hard. "She's right, isn't she?"

Cancerman smirked slightly and took a deep drag of his cigarette. "Of course," he exhaled smoke into Benedict's face and shrugged. "Agent Scully," he gestured towards the room with his cigarette, swirling fumes about Benedict's head, "figured it out a long time ago. She is very bright." His eyes softened and gained a faraway look. "She could have been our greatest asset. . . if she had only followed her orders. If she hadn't listened to Mulder."

"If she hadn't fallen in love with him." Diana contributed softly from across the room. Benedict turned to glance at her, but her gaze remained transfixed on Scully. 

Cancerman frowned slightly, then shrugged and lowered his still smoldering cigarette. "Yes, there was that," he acknowledged almost flippantly. 

Benedict shook his head in disbelief. "But why now? Why separate them now?"

Cancerman raised an eyebrow. "My, aren't you curious? Why should I tell you?" 

"I think I have a right to know," Benedict stepped back slightly and turned to gaze at the woman on the other side of the mirror. "I'm a part of this, too."

Cancerman stepped to his side and frowned pensively. "Several weeks ago there was an incident in the Antarctic. A ship was destroyed." He lifted the cigarette to his lips once more and flicked off the ash, drawing in a deep breath. 

"Mulder was there, he had the vaccine." Benedict's eyebrows shot sky high and Diana shifted nervously beside him. 

"How did he get his hands on the vaccine?" he asked, astounded at this information. Cancerman shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes still on the woman inside the room. 

"There are a number of ways, but we all have our suspicions. . . ." He flicked his eyes once more to Benedict. "The point is, Mulder has seen too much. We all knew that there was no way we could allow the X-Files to stay open; we went to great lengths to keep it closed." He nodded towards Scully slightly. 

"This was our safest bet, get rid of Mulder and Scully in one shot. Two birds with one stone. But Mulder proved more stubborn than we expected, you of all people know that. . . ." he blew out a heavy smoke filled breath and shrugged. "We had no choice really, this is what's best for the project." He nodded thoughtfully and turned to walk away. 

Benedict frowned and turned after him. "What happens to Mulder after he arrives?"

Cancerman turned and extinguished his cigarette in the trash can. He grimaced and shook his head. "What do you think? They're both as good as dead." With that, he turned and was gone. Benedict swallowed hard and ran his hands through his hair once more. He turned back to meet the ugly grin of Diana. 

"Don't bother feeling bad for them. They're fools." She shot a disgusted look into the other room once more, then shook her head and departed. 

Benedict hung his head again and turned his attention back to the woman inside the room on the other side of the mirror. Convulsions wracked her body and her hands gripped the chair tightly, but she did not utter a sound, enduring her pain with quiet dignity. Benedict closed his eyes and sighed heavily, his voice whistling out in a broken hush. 

"Oh God, what have I done?"

*******

9:07 a.m.

*******

The slick scrape of tires against the slippery road was the only sound to break the heavy stillness that clung to the old building as Mulder pulled up in his car. Rain fell in gentle sheets, coating the dreary panorama with a silvery mist that billowed about the tops of the trees that crowded thickly together in the forest beyond 2556 Hill road. 

Mulder shook the precipitation off of his jacket and narrowed his eyes, glancing around swiftly. There, beyond the treeline, hidden behind the foilage were several dark cars. He sighed and shot a glance towards the building, his hand coming down to his side, grazing the holster at his side and reassuring himself that his gun was still there. 

With one last glance towards the cars beyond the grove,he spun on his heel and strode silently into the old building. 

*******

Muffled footsteps echoed dimly throughout the dusky corridor and Mulder shifted uneasily, gripping his gun and pulling it into his palm. He proceeded cautiously down the hallway, wincing at the noise his movements made. 

A sharp flash of anguish streaked its way through his brain and he staggered backwards one step, clutching his head in pain, mouth open in a silent scream. He bit down on his lip hard, tasting coppery blood on his tongue as he swallowed hard. Images flashed silently by in vivid crimson hues, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain as it resided to a dull ache buzzing behind his eyes. An image superimposed itself to his brain, white walls enclosed Scully and blood stained her lips . . . a shadowed stairwell led to the floor she was being held on. 

He frowned and massaged his temples with his fingertips gently and blew out a heavy sigh. He hadn't had time to analyze these visions, but they had always been correct in the past. He hoped this frail bond would be enough to help him for now. 

Mulder pushed away from the wall he was leaning heavily upon and continued to stride down the hallway, muffling his footsteps as best he could in the oppressive stillness. 

Blood rushed in his ears, pounding and blinding behind his eyes. The ache grew steadily to a sharp pain as he approached to the end of the hallway. He turned the corner and breathed a slight sigh of relief at the stairwell in front of him. 

A dark shadow hovered near the edge of the stairwell, leaning heavily against a lone window which cast a dim shaft of gray light into the hall. 

Mulder swallowed hard and brought his gun up behind Benedict's head.

*******

Benedict stood silently by the window, calmly looking out on the world he was helping to destroy. The tempestuous weather of the previous week seemed to have returned, it seemed the skies were a portentous harbinger which mirrored the storm brewing in the crumbling building below. A biting wind blew into the room through the jagged cracks in the pane, damp and cold, ruffling Benedict's ebony hair. Goosebumps rose on his exposed flesh, but Benedict made no move to find warmer haven. He simply stood, staring out at the grim trees outside the thinly veiled cell which enclosed him. He simply stood, and he waited.

He did not have long to wait.

Cold metal of a gun pressed into the skin behind his ear and a raspy breath hissed at him. "Where is she?" 

Benedict smirked grimly inwardly to himself and he gazed at Mulder's reflection in the fractured glass for a long moment. He drew in a deep breath and slumped slightly, turning to meet the other man's gaze. 

Benedict cocked an eyebrow and bit the inside of his lip expectantly. "Why are you asking me?" Mulder's eyes narrowed dangerously, but Benedict could tell he had struck a nerve. There was some fervid emotion wavering in the younger's man's eyes. Benedict smiled slightly and shook his head. "You know where she is, why bother with me?" 

Mulder frowned and stepped back slowly, lowering his gun slightly. "How do you know?" 

Benedict shrugged, "I told you, I've been watching you for quite some time." He chuckled deep in his throat and leaned back against the wall, turning slightly towards the window. "That very first night at the hospital, I told you I had seen something in the two of you. You have this. .." He shrugged, searching for his words. "This connection." He glanced up to meet Mulder's silent eyes briefly and lowered his gaze. "My wife and I used to be like that. Our friends used to say that we spoke more with one glance than with any words." He shook his head and his lips quirked wistfully. He dug his hands into his pockets and sighed slightly. He kept his gaze on the mist trimmed tree tops outside the window and stroked his mustache lightly. 

"You two, you have that." He flicked his eyes to Mulder's once more. He was standing askance, gun dangling loosely from lowered hands. His hair was tousled and spiky from the humidity outside and as Benedict watched, he seemed to age another five years. His head drooped and his face fell slightly but Benedict could see a slight smirk play on his lips.

Mulder glanced back up and shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts. "You know, people have been telling us that for eight years." 

Benedict smiled, "So what took you so long?" 

There was a moment of an odd sort of kinship between the two, an understanding that neither seemed to understand. 

Mulder nodded and stepped back. "Second floor, second to last door." It was more a statement than a question, but Benedict nodded with a smile. 

"She's waiting for you," his face darkened and he caught Mulder's arm. "Mulder. . .. Be careful, she doesnt look too good." 

Mulder grit his teeth and nodded grimly. "I'm used to it." Somehow the fact that it was the truth made him feel worse than the fact that he was, indeed, used to it. 

Benedict turned his back on Mulder's retreating form and leaned against the windowpane once more. Outside the rain continued to streak silently down the fractured glass of the windowpane. The only image reflected was the distorted semblance of a man defeated. 

*******

Mulder moved silently down the barren hallway, footsteps muffled by stealthy movements as he ducked the shadows that lingered on the walls. He trailed his fingers along the white wall, eyes wide and senses alert as he took in everything that surrounded him. 

There was something very wrong with the stillness that hung about him. He hadn't come across anyone since he had seen Benedict lingering by the window. It was as if the entire world was holding it's breath and waiting for him to make a mistake, one fatal move that would crush him. And as he felt the prying gaze of the hidden camera trained on his back he grimaced with a twisted sneer and continued moving. 

Down the empty hallway and closer to whatever waited for him at the end.

*******

Scully lifted her drooping head and raised her eyes to the stark wall in front of her. She squinted through her hair that fell across her faces and saw a blurred vision of blood dancing before her eyes. She blinked heavily and peered closely at the image she held in her mind's eye. Out of the darkness and blood an figure appeared. 

As she closed her eyes one last time, her partner's haunted expression lingered in her mind.

*******

The door swung open with a barely audible creak that permeated the silence and Mulder flinched at the unexpected sound. He scrubbed at his eyes with one hand, preparing himself for whatever lie within the room he stood on the gateway of. He opened his eyes slowly, one hand dropping to his gun where it was holstered at his side. He stepped into the room cautiously, gun sliding into his hand and he glanced around, eyebrows furrowing. 

There were a couple of vacant chairs, and a few tables that were cluttered with orderly machinery. The lights were switched off and the only thing that glowed was the neon bulbs that flashed from the dark shadows to signal that the machines were doing their job. 

He turned slightly and then his gaze fell on the one thing he had been dreading to see, and the thing he had come for. . . .

There was a thick two-way mirror several feet to one side. As he approached he could see his anguished-filled eyes reflected back in the pane that mocked him with their barrier. He held one hand up, pressed trembling fingers to the smooth glass and leaned his forehead against the mirror, as if he could rid himself of the sight within through sheer will. 

Scully sat, hunched over on the other side of the thick glass. Her head drooped to her chest and her hair fell around her head in a bloody banner which was matted by a thick, dark liquid. Her arms and wrists were strapped down, as were her ankles. Mulder vaguely remembered another time his partner had been in a similar situation. Eddie Schnauz had hovered over her with a scalpel, claiming that he could rid her of her 'howlers.' 

He had been in time to help her then; they had come away from that incident without too many scars. This time, he may have been too late to help either of them. . . .

"Scully." His voice was a broken whisper which fogged up against the glass pane. At his hushed utterance, she stirred slightly, then was quiescent once more. 

Mulder's heart lifted, as well as his temper. The sight of his partner strapped to a chair, her blood blurring the walls and floor was too much to bear. He backed away from the mirror frantically, searching for a way in. A latch. A handle. Anything that could help him get to her. He stumbled backwards, tearing his gaze from the heartbreaking sight within the room. He reached out blindly, groping for something that could help him. His fingers ran over the smooth surface of the table and he backed up, slamming hard into the machinery behind him. He reached out and flicked all the switches and buttons that operated the thing. The humming neon bulbs fizzed out into a dark, dull silence and Mulder could hear his breaths rasping in the sudden stillness. He eyed the room cautiously and shot a glance towards the mirror, then back down, 

allowing his gaze to fall on the heavy metal chair in front of him. 

He snaked one hand out and gripped the smooth, cold metal of the chair and considered the thickness of the glass in front of him. He lifted the chair up, testing its weight gradually, and bit his lip hard as he swung it towards the mirrror. 

Splintering cracks spread outward as the chair made a jarring impact with the once-solid plate of glass. Mulder winced at the loud clatter the metal made as it connected with the glass. He watched as the cracks spread up and outward in the smooth glass, but still it remained intact. He set his jaw and swung it hard again, even more cracks in the glass this time. He stopped for a second and caught his breath, glimpsing his reflection in the fractured mirror's glass, broken up into a thousand different images that stared back at him with wide, haunted eyes and pale features. He looked past his own image as it blurred with the image of his partner, sitting hunched over in the room. With one last burst of strength, he swung the chair hard. 

The glass shattered into a thousand shards that sprinkled the room in a sparkling cloud as it blew into the room. Mulder dropped the chair to the floor with a loud clatter. The glass swirled down and hit the ground with a quiet chime. 

Mulder winced and threw one hand out to steady himself, tearing the skin of his hand on a jagged shard. He snatched his hand back and glared at the glass in exasperation as he swung himself over the side into the other room. He tread carefully, wincing as glass crunched underfoot, and approached his partner in silence. 

He knelt in front of her carefully, gritting his teeth as blood soaked into the hem of his pantleg. He gazed at her ashen features for a long moment; her cheek was streaked with blood and her hair was matted so thickly he gagged at the thought of it. Her eyes were sunken and ringed with dark shadows. He reached out to grasp her hand, gasping at how frail it was, how skeletel, a cage of bone encased by the most delicate silk. 

He averted his eyes from her face and fumbled around the edges of the chair for a switch. His finger caught on something and he pushed a button, sighing in acknowledgment as the harsh steel cuffs that pinned her wrists to the arms of the chair snapped open. He reached over and retrieved her arm, frowning as her skin caught on something. He cocked his head and removed a small iv tube from her arm. He glared at it for a long moment, realizing this hideous torture she had endured but had never deserved. With painstaking tediousness, he repeated the process with her other arm and both legs. Without the confines of the cuffs binding her in place, Scully slumped forward into his waiting arms. He could feel his eyes begin to water as he whispered a soft oath into her ear. 

"I'm going to get you out of here, Scully, I swear it. . . ." He smirked grimly and pressed her close to him. "And I'm not allowed to lie to you anymore, remember? So that's a gurantee."

Her body was limp in his arms and he felt tears stinging his eyes. He rested his hand gently on the swell of her stomach and sighed in relief: she was still breathing at least. She was still alive. That was all that mattered anymore. 

"Scully, can you stand? Come on, I need you to wake up for me," he whispered gently into her ear. He bit his lip for a moment, thinking hard. Then bent over and pressed a light kiss to her chapped and cracked lips, leaning his temple against his. 

"Come on, Scully." 

A long moment passed in breathless silence, then was broken by a dry cough. Scully's eyes fluttered and dimly focused on her partner gazing down on her. 

"I had you," she whispered weakly. Mulder frowned and shook his head in disbelief, a genuine chuckle escaping his lips. He bent over and whispered into her ear again. 

"You had nothing."

Their eyes connected and a moment of understanding passed between them. Nodding slightly at an unspoken question he wasn't even sure he knew the answer for, Mulder scooped his partner's frail body up in his arms and stepped out of the broken glass and the blood and into the other room. 

*******

The images of the video screen flickered in front of him, a trail of gray cigarette smoke ringed his head in a grim parody of a halo. Cancerman let out a long sigh as he watched Mulder make his way out of the room with his partner in his arms. He stubbed his dying cigarette out in a nearby ashtray and nodded in satisfaction. 

"They're going to escape if you don't do something soon, you know that?" Diana's low, sultry tone invaded his thoughts with an unwelcome reminder of her presence. 

"I know," Cancerman nodded and resumed his silent musings of the two figures on the screen. Diana turned on her heel in disgust and threw her hands up into the air. 

"The rest of the Syndicate have arrived!" She gestured at another screen in irritation. "If you don't act soon, you will have to explain to them why Mulder and Scully are still alive."

Cancerman narrowed his eyes slightly, but kept his gaze trained on the screen in front of him, paying Diana no heed. She growled in disgust and shook her head, turning to fling the door open. 

"Well if you won't do anything, I will." With that she shot a scathing look towards the man and set off down the hall. 

Cancerman leaned back in his chair and watched as Mulder and Scully trudged down a dark hallway, Mulder supporting the slowly moving Scully with one arm, and yet no longer carrying her. 

After a long moment, he flicked the screen off and left the room. 

*******

Scully gasped for breath and gripped her partner's hand even tighter as she caught her footing just before she could stumble. Mulder's arm snaked around to pull her up but she shook him off and straightened, determined to move on her own. 

She avoided his pleading eyes which begged her to let him help, pressing on, one painful step after the next. Mulder blew out a breath and dropped back to walk behind her, keeping his eyes trained on her back. Scully could feel his gze on her, caressing and soothing her with it's constance. She allow a brief smile to flit over her feartures, then she moved away from him, his prying gaze and turned the corner before her partner . . . And found herself staring into the cold, dark eyes of Diana Fowely, straight down the barrel of a gun. 

*******

end chapter nine

*******


	10. Smoke

*******

A Snatch Of Tiger Lilies

By Emily O'Donnell

*******

Chapter 10

*******

"Leaf by leaf, page by page

Throw this book away

All the sadness, all the rage

Throw this book away

Rip out the binding, tear the glue

All of the grief we never even knew

We had it all along . . . 

Here's an evening dark with shame

Throw it on the fire

Here's the time I took the blame

Throw it on the fire

Here's the view we didn't speak

It seemed for years and years

Here's a secret

No one will ever know the 

reasons for the tears . . .

Those who say the past is not dead

Stop and smell the smoke

You keep on saying the past is not dead

Come and smell the smoke . . ."

~Ben Folds Five, Smoke

*******

Chapter Ten

*******

Sunday

September 12, 1998

9:46 a.m.

*******

Mulder stopped in mid-step as Scully turned the corner. He heard a sharp intake of breath and winced, mentally cursing himself. A tingling at the base of his skull alerted him to danger lurking there, around the corner, facing his partner. Before he could draw another breath, before he could form a thought, he had pulled his gun into his palm and turned the corner. 

He cocked the safety back and aimed it straight ahead, over his petite partner's flaming hair . . . and straight between the cold eyes of Diana Fowely. 

Her malovelant gaze flickered momentarily to meet Mulder's eyes. She had one arm wrapped tightly across Scully's chest, clutching the other woman to herself, her gun pressed hard against her temple. One eyebrow cocked slightly, daring him as she jerked Scully back in the hall, her grip painfully tight against the other woman's flesh. Scully gasped in pain as one of Diana's long, curved nails dug into the flesh of her arm and Mulder winced as a sharp pain stabbed its way through his elbow. He staggered forward slightly, inching closer as the gun remained level with her forehead. 

"Put the gun down Diana." 

She sneered slightly and stepped back again, dragging Scully with her. Scully looked defeated, run down, and exhausted. Mulder dropped his gaze to her, searching out her eyes in concern. She bit her lip hard, breaking the scab and as he watched, a drop of blood welled up and appeared on her mouth. She glanced up abruptly and met his gaze steadily, her dull cobalt eyes sparkled momentarily with a grim determination, and in that moment there were no words needed between the two of them. 

"We could have had it all, you know." The moment was broken by Diana's harsh voice and it took a moment for Mulder to register that she was speaking to him. Her gaze was trained on Scully's blank features but her tone was directed towards him with the casual arrogance she had always addressed him with. 

"We could be living happily somewhere together, you and I." Her eyes flicked to Mulder at last and he struggled to focus on her voice and keep his eyes trained on her face, lest he slip and inadvertantly harm his partner.

"We could be working together on this!" She gestured wildly with her gun for a second before jamming it back against Scully's skin. "The project. We could be doing the world some good."

Mulder frowned and his insides churned in disgust. "You believe that this is what is right?" he asked, voice dripping with distinct scorn. 

"Who are you to decide what's right?" His words from years earlier slipped quickly from his mouth before he had a moment to consider them. 

"Who do you think you are, that you think you know me now? You are so blind, you can't see what this whole thing is about!" Mulder gestured to the walls around him with hand. He met her gaze slowly and each word as he pronounced it was a dagger to Diana's soul, leaving it jagged and bleeding. 

"Or you do know. And you just don't give a damn about anyone other than yourself." Mulder nodded, satisfied with this conclusion. "That's the way it's always been hasn't it Diana?"

Diana's thin jaw tightened and her finger flexed around the trigger. Scully's eyes slipped shut and Mulder drew in a deep breath, praying that she would be all right. Diana's eyes hardened to flinty black slits at his words and at his obvious concern for his partner. 

"I'll show you!" she shrieked suddenly, in rage at his seemingly careless manner. Her finger tensed on the trigger and . . . 

BAM!

Time slowed to a sudden stop. 

Mulder's dark eyes met the bright gaze of his partner and in one synchronous instant, they smiled an identical, melancholy smile. 

A whispered oath of, "I love you. . . ." hung in the air between them, thick and cloying, seeping into the hearts of the two partners in the hallway.

And suddenly it all snapped back into place. . . .

The echo of the gunshot reverberated off of the stark white walls, now sprayed with crimson blood and thick gray matter . . . 

Mulder blinked slowly, and raised a hand to wipe the spray of blood from where it had been smeared across his face. His vision wavered for a moment and then his gaze lifted to where Scully and Diana had just been standing. 

They were both slumped over, huddled on the floor. He frowned and stared at the foreign 

substance on the wall and felt a flash of panic flash through his muddled brain, warning that it could be his 

partner's brilliant brain splatterd against the wall. 

He moved slowly, and leaned down, pulling at his partner's arm cautiously. He pushed Diana off of her roughly and knelt in the bloody mess in the hallway, fear choking him. Scully was limp in his arms, and covered in blood. Mulder swallowed hard in apprehension and dropped his still smoking gun to the ground. . . . He turned to gaze at it; it was still warm to the touch. . . . Funny, he could scarcely remember firing it. . . .

A low moan came from his partner and she stirred weakly in the haven of Mulder's arms. He gasped in relief and sank back against the wall, clutching her trembling form to his chest. 

"It's all right, Scully . . . It's all right. . . ." 

She opened her eyes and glanced around wildly. Her gaze landed on the still form of Diana, lying in the middle of the hall, brain and blood spraying the walls behind her. 

"Did you do that?" she asked quietly, hesitantly. Mulder followed her gaze and nodded slowly. 

"I think so."

Scully nodded disjointedly and turned back to him, searching for his eyes. "Mulder . . . ." At a sudden loss for words, she shook her head and mustered up her last dredges of strength. 

"We need to get out of here. . . ." 

He met her eyes languidly and nodded slowly, as realization dawned on him. "Yeah, we do." He drew in a ragged breath, reached out amidst the blood of his former lover, and snatched up his gun. He stood slowly, on unsteady feet, pulling Scully along with him. 

He turned to stare at the shattered, bloody remains of Diana Fowely for a long moment, then he took his partner's hand and pulled her away from the carnage in the hallway. 

Grounded by her reassuring strength and presence, Mulder strode away, his partner by his side. 

*******

9:52 a.m.

*******

Benedict nodded to himself with a grim pleasure as he surveyed the gore Mulder and Scully had just walked away from. The final pieces of the puzzle were all falling into place now. 

A shuffling step behind him caught his ear and Benedict smirked grimly to himself. His palm itched, as he grasped his gun in one hand firmly. There was no fear this time, not like the last time he had stood up to Cancerman . . . that time he had walked away with his life, but he had lost his wife's. This time however, only one of them would walk away, or neither of them.

Benedict cocked his gun and turned to face Cancerman. Cancerman quirked an eyebrow at the younger man as he stepped over the bloody remains of his former agent. 

"Quite a mess our young agents left in here," he noted, taking a step closer towards Benedict. "You may want to do something about this Benedict." 

Benedict stood still and silent, not moving an inch. Cancerman raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Did you hear me? You might want to go downstairs and stop them."

Benedict swung his icy glare on Cancerman. "Why ever would I want to stop them?" 

Cancerman's eyes narrowed to icy black slits as he glared at the other man. He moved for his gun, but Benedict had already whipped out his own, and was leaning it against the other man's temple. "The two of them deserve this." Benedict swallowed hard and glared at the man he hated most in the world.

"Go ahead, Benedict, kill me. It won't bring Miranda back though." Cancerman swiveled his gaze up to meet the taller man's eyes. His words were like a dagger piercing Benedict's heart. 

"And once you've killed me, then where will you be? You'll be killed as well," he shrugged. "It's pointless to threaten me." 

Benedict swallowed hard and glanced down on the older man, and chuckled. Cancerman frowned, obviously confused by his reaction. Benedict's chuckles grew louder until they were the laughter of a man with nothing to lose. 

"You're a fool. I don't care if I die!" He sneered at the man before him. "As long as you are dead, I will finally will have had my revenge." His eyes glittered with grim delight. 

"At precisely 10:00 there are a series of bombs that will detonate all over this building. No one will survive. The consortium, you, me." He shrugged and smirked at the man, tensing his finger on the trigger. "Will all be gone." His expression softened and he whispered. "And I will be with my Miranda once more." 

Cancerman opened his mouth to protest . . . but was silenced by a ringing shot that tore through the corridor. 

And another body slumped to the bloody floor. 

*******

9:58 a.m.

*******

Mulder and Scully were running, fleeing for their lives. A gnawing sense of dread had begun to claw at them, seeping into their soul and picking at their brains. They retraced Mulder's earlier steps hastily, holding onto each other for desperate support. 

The two of them burst out of the doors of the old building and kept on running. 

They had just reached the treeline of the forest when it happened. A tremendous explosion ripped the air behind them. Crimson flames leapt up, licking at the silver clouds and wracking the old building. A huge cloud of smoke unfurled, mocking the argent gray sky with it's own darkness. Rubble and debris clung to the air for a long moment, before tumbling down with a crash. 

Mulder and Scully collapsed into an exhausted heap, hidden safely among the trees. They clung to each other desperately; no words were needed. They were together now, and they were safe. And that was all that mattered. 

Mulder pulled his partner close to him, tears streamed down his face as smoke filtered its way through, along with an overwhelming sense of relief. He cradled Scully closely in his arms, she buried her face in his chest and he could feel her trembling violently. He stroked her head gently, forcing a smile for her benefit as he pulled her closer. 

"It's all right. We're safe," he whispered tearfully into her hair. "It's over now," he glanced 

around at the destruction which surrounded him. FBI agents swarmed about the ruined building, and in the distance Mulder could hear sirens splitting the air. He slumped over, clutching his partner tightly in his arms and whispered once more. 

"It's all over now. . . ."

*******

end chapter ten

*******


	11. Choosing Life

*******

A Snatch Of Tiger Lilies

By Emily O'Donnell

*******

"There are places I'll remember 

All my life though some have changed 

Some forever not for better 

Some have gone and some remain 

All these places have their moments 

With lovers and friends, I still can recall 

Some are dead and some are living 

In my life I've loved them all 

But of all these friends and lovers 

There is no one compares with you 

And these memories lose their meaning 

When I think of love as something new 

Though I know I'll never lose affection 

For people and things that went before 

I know I'll often stop and think about them 

In my life I love you more."

~The Beatles, In My Life

*******

Epilogue

*******

Tuesday

September 21, 1998

7:21 p.m.

*******

Twilight fell once more upon the world. The last golden rays of sunshine filtered in through the gauzy white curtains which draped over the windowframe. The beams fell upon a woman, resting quietly in a large, now familiar bed. Red hair flung out, contrasting sharply with the white sheets, her face as she slept was the picture of peace. There was a slight movement by the door and a dark figure entered, shedding shadows as he moved into the dying golden rays. He knelt beside the bed, taking her small hand gently into his own and dropping a light kiss on her palm. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking momentarily in abashment. As her blue-eyed gaze landed upon his face, her lips curved into a tender smile and she reached out her other hand to touch his face. 

"I was worried that you'd be gone all night." She glanced at the empty spot beside her and pouted slightly. "I was cold."

Without a word, Mulder shed his clothes and slipped into his bed with his partner, curling up behind her and pulling her close. 

"This better?" His voice was a husky whisper in her ear; Scully grinned slightly and nodded against his chest. They lay there for a moment in silence, Mulder's fingertips tracing light patterns over her face, smoothing the wrinkles from her brow. 

"How was the service?" she asked quietly. Mulder sighed and shook his head slightly. 

"Empty," was his soft reply. "It seemed that Benedict had little friends or family."

Scully shut her eyes and bit her lip. "I wish I could have gone with you."

"I know," he whispered, kissing the skin behind her ear gently. "But you're still recovering." Scully rolled her eyes, and turned to bury her face in his chest. She was still debilitated, she had only been released from the hospital the day before with a clean bill of health which had astonished the doctors along with strict orders of bed rest. Orders that Mulder was dilligently following, unfortunately for her, because if there was one thing Dana Scully despised, it was feeling weak. 

"Hey." Mulder kissed the top of her head and shook her gently. "I know, you hate this." He grinned suggestively at her. "But you gotta admit that being bedridden with me isn't so bad." 

Scully chuckled and shook her head. "You never change." Mulder shrugged and let his palms dance over her skin. 

"I know, but you love me anyway." Scully smiled and glanced up to meet his eyes. She ran her fingers along his jawbone and kissed him softly on the lips. 

"Yes, I do." She whispered. The two of them lay curled together, outside the humid summer air had given way to a slight Autumn chill. The twilight had fallen to a clear night sky, free of clouds or rain and the peaceful silver moonlight shone in on them.

"They found bodies in the wreckage," Scully whispered. Mulder frowned and pulled back to look at her. Her face was neutral, impassive, but there was a note of irrational hope that lingered in her voice."Bodies?" he asked, his gentle tone held a note of concern. 

Scully nodded slightly. "Skinner called earlier to tell me . . . he thinks it's the Consortium." 

Mulder's eyes widened visibly and a wild hope arose in him. "The entire Consortium?" Scully met his eyes which were blazing emerald green and nodded again. 

Scully shook her head. "I don't know. . . but I don't want to think about it right now." She leaned her head against his chest and sighed, listening to his heard beat silently. 

Mulder's hand fell on her head, stroking her hair gently. He watched as her delicate fingers traced patterns on his skin. Her pale hands clashed with his golden skin as he laced his fingers with hers and kissed her other hand. 

"Why do I feel like it's not over yet?" he asked softly. Scully sighed and shook her head. 

"I don't know." She glanced up to meet his eyes, fingertips still sketching caresses upon his flesh. "It never seems to be over for us. It never seems to end." She shrugged slightly, and he could see pain lingering in her gaze. "It's just the way our lives are." Scully frowned suddenly and sat up. 

"Why didn't you tell me that you had cured me when we were at the hospital together?"

Mulder followed suit and averted his eyes, somewhat guiltily. "I didn't know what I was going to do. I thought I could leave. . ." he shook his head. "I should have known better." He reached out to cup her cheek with his palm. 

"I could never leave you."

Scully smiled gently and her lips twisted wryly. Mulder groaned inwardly, he could feel another question coming on. "You know," she began quietly. "I never asked you how you found me." 

Mulder's eyes darkened and he swallowed gently. "I know," he whispered. 

Scully quirked an eyebrow at his serious expression and shrugged. "Want to tell me about it?" 

Mulder was quiet for a long moment, and even before he turned his eyes to her own and opened his mouth, Scully knew what his response was going to be.

"I dreamt of you. . ." Mulder shook his head, it sounded ridiculous. "It sounds ridiculous." He defended himself quickly. 

Scully narrowed her eyes briefly and shook her head, recalling her hazy premonition in the white room where she had been kept. She frowned briefly and blew out a thoughtful sigh. Somethings would always remain a mystery, it seemed that this part of their relationship would be one of them. 

"Not so ridiculous." Scully murmured. Mulder cast an inquisitive glance at her and she grinned gently. "I dreamt about you too."

"Really?"

Scully nodded, "Yeah. I dreamt you were coming for me. . ." she shrugged. "And then, there you were."

Mulder nodded thoughtfully and frowned suddenly. "Why aren't you questioning any of this? Why are you just accepting it so calmly?" He sounded a bit alarmed and Scully chuckled at his tone. 

"Because I've learned to believe in the unbelievable." She shrugged at his shocked expression and smiled. "Not all of it, mind you! But some of it. . ." 

There was a wicked gleam in Mulder's eyes as he pushed her back into the bed, pinning her down lightly and planting kisses on her face. "Need some more convincing then eh?"

Scully laughed, a gorgeous sound to Mulder's ears. "Always," she murmured as his lips 

descended on hers. "Always, Mulder. . ."

And as the shades of night darkened, a single tiger lily lay on the table next to the bed. It's petals were waxy and full of life once more. It was reborn into life and colour, finally blooming.

End

Dedications: To my sister, Alaina who taught me the meaning of the word 'shipper'. And who pushed me to finish this story when I thought I could go no further. She was the one who gave me many of the songs and ideas that came about in the chapter. For Jenni, my beta reader, who didn't push TOO much, and who sat up with me for hours online and on the phone, endlessly betaing this. Also, to Mel, for reassuring me that I shouldn't throw out chapter nine. And for all my friends who helped me through the rather hard times that sporadically interrupted the story, some of you may never read this story, but thank you nonetheless, you may never know how wonderful you are. And finally, for the MSRFicSupportGroup, those wonderful gals who were there since the beginning and always cheers me up, no matter what. 

um, okay. . . wow, is it really over? I don't want to leave so soon. . .

E-Mail: Undothought@yahoo.com

"And in the end

The love you Take

Is equal to the love

You Make." 

~The Beatles, The End


End file.
